Todd and Brad Reed’s Michigan: Wednesdays in the Mitten

Rochester is so lit up for the holidays this December night that it looks like Las Vegas has come to small town Michigan. I have driven about 250 miles and then have waited several hours to take in this unimaginable view. My camera and tripod are mounted on the top of my pickup truck. I use my remote trigger to open the shutter to begin a long exposure that will record the movement of taillights and headlights traveling the main street of this bustling business district.

A family looks in a Rochester store window display to appreciate how beautifully Home Bakery has recreated a scene from the movie Frozen. Home Bakery certainly looks "sweet" from my vantage point.

Haig's Fine Jewelry in Rochester is dazzling customers this evening with more than its jewelry. Thousands of holiday lights shine like jewels on the outside of the store while Santa appears to be taking off from the rooftop. I am impressed with Haig's and all the downtown businesses of Rochester that have banded together to present one of Michigan's most impressive holiday light displays.

There was no doubt in my mind that my son Brad was in heaven shooting ice sculptures created by mineral-colored water running down and seeping through the rocky cliffs of Grand Island. The massive ice walls that created this cave extended more than 100 feet up the rocky cliff walls. We were experiencing beauty beyond belief after hiking about a mile across ice-covered Lake Superior at the mouth of Munising Bay, a bay frozen solid by one of the coldest winters in decades. This “Don’t do this at home” expedition in March 2014 still stands as one of my most exhilarating, rewarding and memorable photography shoots. I am grateful to God for safe passage for Brad and me and three friends from the Charlevoix Camera Club, safe shooting inside the ice caves and for the beauty we found there. Upon our arrival at the island, Brad, Mike Schlitt, Bill Dietrich, Wally Barkley and I each went exploring various caves on our own, and we all came away with wonderful images; how could we not have since the sights we were privileged to be witnessing were so incredible—and incredibly challenging to reach. As harsh as Michigan Upper Peninsula winters always are, it takes an unusually long stretch of frigid weather for there to be enough ice to get to and from the island. Authorities and a couple of longtime local ice fishermen advised us against trying, but a local photographer and a local outdoorsman who had trekked there in past years said that if ever there was a good time, this was it. Several photographers had posted images from the Grand Island caves on Facebook a week earlier, but there had been a short warmup after that. The good news was that the thermometer had plummeted for the past several days prior to our arrival. Having been a certified ice rescuer in the Coast Guard, I understood the risk involved. A shift in the wind could quickly create open water gaps in the ice. Currents coming in and out of Munising Bay might have created or could create weak spots in the ice. I kept in mind the number one rule of ice rescue that I was taught in the Coast Guard: “No ice is safe ice.” I knew that if we got in trouble in this remote location, professional rescuers were most likely going to be far away and a long time coming. Survival time in the ice-cold waters of Lake Superior in winter would be short. We had prepared for the worst before leaving home. We brought a large, light ice fishing sled with two long quick-release lines attached to us to pull it with while staying far apart. This kept us linked to the sled and each other in case one or the other went in. We wore our life jackets snugged tight for extra hypothermia protection. We secured dry bags to the sled with dry clothing inside. I carried a rescue heaving line throw bag. Fortunately, we were able to accomplish our photographers’ bucket list mission without incident or need for rescue gear. There was comfort and wisdom in following the Coast Guard motto of being “Always Ready.”

I cannot imagine the gates of Heaven being more beautiful than this. I was exploring an ice cave at Grand Island on Lake Superior when I worked my way through a maze of ice formations and came face to face with what looked to me like an open doorway so splendid only God and nature could create it. This, for me, was truly a spiritual experience.

I have never seen so many Canada geese goslings in one parade as this morning in the Tobico Marsh State Game Area at Kawkawlin, Michigan, between Bay City and Pinconning. Their two parents, or adopted parents, guide them through the waters of the big marsh near the Lake Huron shoreline. The geese are among dozens of game birds and songbirds seeming to pop up everywhere during my hike through the marshland set aside for them. D800, F5.6 at 1/800, ISO 400, 500mm lens at 500mm

This view of Tawas Bay, Tawas Point, and Lake Huron greets me after climbing 70 feet up the circular stairway leading to the lantern room of Tawas Point Lighthouse. The fourth-order Fresnel lens continues to shine brightly at night, warning ships of the danger posed by Tawas Point.

I am struck by the shapes and forms carved by the waters of Porter Creek as it winds its way from the Nordhouse Dunes Federal Wilderness into Lake Michigan. I know converting this image to black-and-white will help me emphasize the constantly evolving shapes, forms, and patterns of this wild place.

Ludington is famous for its sunsets, having been rated by numerous magazines and newspapers as one of the best places in Michigan and the Midwest to view a sunset. Sunsets like this one from Crosswinds at the Ludington harbor entrance are all the ammunition this lifelong Ludington resident needs to support the argument that my hometown is a most magical place to watch the sun appear to sink out of sight into Lake Michigan.

There are more monarch butterflies than people enjoying Dow Gardens in Midland today. Brad and I are delighted to be among only a handful of people appreciating one of Michigan's most beautiful gardens this morning.

I know photographers who set up feeding stations and sophisticated lighting systems to increase their odds of making fabulous photographs of hummingbirds. I appreciate the thought and work that goes into that style of shooting as well as the outcome. As for me, my unplanned, unexpected encounter with this hummingbird at Dow Gardens in Midland is the kind of hunting in the wild approach I prefer. My adrenaline is flying off the charts but I have to work fast and smart to capture the hummingbird image I have always dreamed of making.

Fudge, bicycles, and horses can be seen nearly everywhere in the Mackinac Island business district. What you won't see are automobiles. People flock to Mackinac Island to experience its slower pace and its yesteryear appearance and way of life.

The grand porch of the Grand Hotel on Mackinac Island affords hotel visitors and guests one of the grandest views imaginable of the Straits of Mackinac and the Mackinac Bridge. Today I am most impressed with how the light and shadow are playing on the columns extending across the porch. D800, F7.1 at 1/400, ISO 100, 70-200mm lens at 70mm

The grand porch of the Grand Hotel on Mackinac Island affords hotel visitors and guests one of the grandest views imaginable of the Straits of Mackinac and the Mackinac Bridge. Today I am most impressed with how the light and shadow are playing on the columns extending across the porch.

With the spring thaw in progress, a white deer stands out in a West Michigan forest on an April morning. Brad and I have spent hours hunting for albino and piebald white deer in a secret location we cannot divulge for the sake of the rare animals. Brad spotted this all-white piebald whitetail. The rare deer lacks the pink nose and eyes of a full albino but the dark eyes and nose made it look to me more like a polar bear. Photographing a polar bear in the wild remains on my bucket list.

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, I know, but I am thinking God's creations don't get any more beautiful than this snowy owl. It has taken me nearly two hours of not-so-patiently waiting to see this magnificent moment up close and personal with the aid of my largest telephoto lens.

While other seagulls sit tight on a frozen pond near Muskegon, this one does a fly-by, allowing me to nearly fill my viewfinder with its image. I have been patiently awaiting such a moment with my 500 millimeter telephoto lens mounted on my camera. Believing such a good thing will happen helps me wait longer. I am a positive thinker. I know it makes me happier and luckier.

As darkness approaches, the colors of the sunset afterglow grow richer and the shapes of the Charlevoix pier and lighthouse become darker and bolder. I am looking for that perfect balance between light and dark, that moment of dusk when the view on this tranquil June evening is the perfect combination of whiskey and wine.

My good friend, David Seaman of the Michigan Hospital Association, has told me I need to come to Lansing to photograph the holiday tree erected in front of the Michigan State Capitol. I first try shooting from a window in David's office. But the finished image is not moving me the way it should. So I start over, this time from on the street squarely in front of the tree and the capitol. Now I am seeing an image I think makes the elegant tree and elegant building enhance each other. Thanks, David!

A Michigan steelhead leaps high in an attempt to get over a short dam on the Betsie River near Benzonia. The Betsie is among the many Michigan rivers that attract fishermen from across the country.