Wonderous West Shore

During one of our advanced photography workshops, Rachel and I tried to convince several students to walk out the Manistee pier in the rain with us to hopefully get a shot of the lighthouse if the sun broke out. None of the other students took the risk. Just after we made it to this spot, the rain poured down on us as hard as I have ever seen it rain. We had no rain gear on and our cameras and lenses were literally filling with rain. I told her to leave her lens cap on and to preset her exposure based on the sun popping out of the clouds because I knew it would be a one-shot deal. By the second shot the end of the lens would be so full of raindrops, the shot would be ruined. Luckily for us, the sun did break through the clouds for a few glorious moments and we each got one shot off that was properly exposed and in focus.

After being stuck behind the slowest driver in Mason County and not being able to pass them, I was sick to my stomach for missing a shot out at the Ludington State Park of the largest double rainbow I had ever seen in my life. I missed it by less than 30 seconds. Disappointed, I drove to the Ludington City Beach to watch the sunset and to cool off. To my surprise, we had a colorful sunset appear. Luckily for us, my dad captured the double rainbow and it has become one of our fastest selling images of all time and made the cover of our newest book Wonderous West Shore.

We like to immerse ourselves in a scene. On this February afternoon, my camera and I are very close to the ice-covered shoreline and waves breaking inside the Pentwater pierheads.

I wonder how many times since I was a young boy that I have climbed to the top of the dunes on Hamlin Lake to take in this incredible natural view. My son Brad looks like an ant in the distance as he makes his way to a spot from which he plans to make a more intimate image of the landscape. I can't get back here soon enough!

My photographer son Brad and I study light as intensely as some people study engineering. We cannot build strong photographs without excellent light quality. Today, May 7, my birthday treat is amazing light and amazing color along the Lake Michigan shoreline at Point Betsie. What a gift Mother Nature has presented!

One of the most spectacular lightning storms I have witnessed in my lifetime showed up on my wife Debbie’s birthday, September 4, 2014. We were guests at my Aunt Carol Garneau’s home on the Lake Michigan shoreline in Ludington Harbor. While photographing bolt after bolt as cells of the storm rolled past me for more than an hour, this granddaddy of them all exploded over the top of the Ludington lighthouse. I made this 30-second time-exposure image with my 500-millimeter Nikon telephoto lens from an open window of Auntie Carol’s second floor art room. I named it Positive Energy because she was always so positive and lit up the world with her presence.

I have photographed many a fox, but never have I seen one more beautifully groomed than this fox kit that was just curious enough to sit down and check me out for a few seconds at the edge of some woods near the Lake Michigan shoreline. I was hidden behind some trees in a nearby woods. The young fox was trotting when I fired off a shot. Even though I was 30 yards away, the sound of the shutter did not go undetected. The curious fox froze, sat down and listened. It couldn’t have posed more perfectly. I fired this shot, and the kit decided this second unfamiliar sound was reason enough to head for hiding at a slow trot.

Coast Guard Station Manistee's 45-foot rescue boat heads past Manistee Lighthouse on a Lake Michigan patrol. A summer squall has passed and the Coast Guardsmen are making certain mariners in the vicinity are safe.

This white robin appeared in my friend Curtis Haynes's yard two days after his mom passed away this winter. The beautiful rare bird has been hanging out every day with the other robins in the area. My dad and I enjoy making environmental portraits of animals.

I feel like I am in a sculpted ice tunnel as I make this January image of Point Betsie Lighthouse. I am never disappointed visiting Point Betsie and this morning I am far too exhilarated by this frozen view to think about being cold.

A Canada goose keeps a watchful eye out as she escorts her goslings along a bank of the Sable River at Ludington State Park. I love seeing all the new life of spring in the Michigan outdoors.

You don't have to be a sailor yourself to enjoy watching the sailboat races that have been taking place for more than a century in harbors along the Lake Michigan shoreline. I marvel at the expert close-quarters racing on Pentwater Lake on summer days.

For seven years, I have been trying to make this image of an albino squirrel that lives at my Papa Bill and Nana Bev's house near Hamlin Grocery north of Ludington. On Christmas Eve, it finally all came together. As I was making this image, I was trying to ignore my older brother Tad as he shot me with the dart gun that he got for Christmas. Some things never change!

In the calm following a February storm, sheets of ice driven atop the Manistee pier by wind and wave are now left to become a still-life study for several photography workshop students and me.

While my aunt Sheryl was vacuuming her living room, she looked through the large picture window and noticed a fawn sleeping peacefully in her pachysandra bushes right next to the house. She immediately called my dad and me and we rushed over with our cameras. I put my lens right on the glass of the window and made this image. I love the heart shape of the bushes that surrounds the beautiful sleeping fawn.

A hummingbird takes aim at another wild iris bloom along a trail in the Ludington State Park. Fortunately for me, the bird was attracted to the same flowers I had already discovered.

The original third-order Fresnel lens shines like new in the lamp house of Little Sable Point Lighthouse. The Sable Points Lighthouse Keepers Association and its several hundred volunteers keep the lighthouse looking shipshape for the thousands of visitors who tour the 1874 structure each year.

Tonight was Julia's and Ethan's first visit to Holland's lighthouse, Big Red. They had a blast playing in the sand together as I photographed boats coming and going in the busy Holland channel. It was over 70 degrees at sunset and it looked and felt more like July than October.

This is one of my top three favorite photographs I have ever made. It seems to create a powerful emotional response when people view it for the first time. I think people relate the human struggle to the lone horse trudging through the deep snow in a blizzard. The legal name of the horse was Ultra Vanity Fair. A few years after making this image, she passed away. I am glad the she will live on forever in this piece of art.