Change Is Hard

…but change is certain.


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Night #1

We went to the Upper Peninsula of Michigan during a very specific week in August, a week when the moon wasn’t filling the sky with light, in order to capture the dark skies there and the Milky Way hanging high overhead.

I concentrated on driving, my sister took the pictures as we went over the bridge.

The season for Milky Way core shooting is coming to an end. Soon it won’t rise high enough for us to see it, and we’ll have to be content with the memories of magical clear nights filled with stars. Because certainly that’s what it’s always like when you’re out under the stars shooting the Milky Way. Right?

Sure it is.

Under the bridge before we drove over it.

So that Monday at the end of August my sister and I packed the car and drove all the way up from southeastern Michigan, across the Mackinaw Bridge and into the interior of the eastern part of the Upper Peninsula.

That’s Mackinaw Island over there.

We set up camp and then decided we’d head up to Whitefish Point for the sunset. And, if we were lucky, a bit of Milky Way practice too.

Lots of families had spent the day at the beach.

The Milky Way core rises early in the night at this time of year, so all we had to do was wait for it to get dark. The minutes ticked by slowly as the light faded and many families came in from the beach, packed their kids and stuff into their cars, and drove away.

This is a uniquely built lighthouse.

But many other people were still out on the beach as the skies darkened, slow to leave Lake Superior and a day filled with sunshine, splashing in the lake, and looking for that special rock.

The day’s light fades.

According to what I could find online the Milky Way would be visible around 10:15. By 9:45 we were getting tired of waiting and I climbed out of the car to do a test shot from the parking lot to see if it was there.

If you look at this in a dark room and make it bigger you’ll see satellites flying all through the sky.

Unfocused and with no composition to speak of, the image is over exposed on purpose so I didn’t have to wait 25 seconds just to see what was up there. We were very excited to see that the Milky Way was indeed hanging over our heads.

So off to the beach we went. We had planned to shoot from down near the water, but there were hundreds of biting flies down there. I felt more comfortable up on the boardwalk where the night breezes kept the flies at bay.

Over exposed on purpose again, just to get a quick image to see where the Milky Way was in relationship to the lighthouse.

Besides, this wasn’t meant to be our real night photography session. We’d come up to Tahquamenon Falls State park to shoot the Milky Way over the falls. This was just a practice session, nothing really important.

Once I established where the Milky Way was, and got the stars in focus, I settled in to get a serious shot. But there were still people walking up from the beach, flashlights shining on random things. Car taillights and headlights were shining on the lighthouse when you least expected it.

The red from car taillights lit up the side of the lighthouse. And of course the lighthouse beacon made plenty of light too.

Not to mention the actual light from the lighthouse which every 14 seconds would blast two times. My sister counted the seconds for me as I tried to avoid the light. Though to be honest the beacon light looked kind of cool on the back of the camera and I didn’t mind it so much at all.

But then there was that red light near the bottom of the frame. I couldn’t tell what it was, while looking through the lens, but the camera was definitely picking something up. It was annoying, and meant that I really needed to limit myself to the top portion of the lighthouse.

Easy enough to crop out that bit of red at the bottom. Turns out it was an exit light inside, above a door, that filled the room with red light.

And as I focused on the sky above the lighthouse there were, of course, planes to contend with. You can take a series of images, all in a row, and then ‘stack’ them in a software program and the parts of the images that aren’t the same will be removed. So I took 7 or 8 images, and if I wanted to I could stack them and all the planes and satellites would be eliminated.

Or…you could just say, that’s cool, look at all the stuff up there in the sky!

Well, I got the shot without the beacon, but there was a plane flying through the Milky Way.

I didn’t take a lot of images that night. I probably should have gone down to the beach and worked on my original composition plan. It was a warm, beautiful night. But we were both tired from a long day and this was just a practice shoot anyway.

A car’s headlights lit up the side of the lighthouse, but I sort of like this one.

Right?

In the end I liked a couple of the images. And I’ll definitely go back on another clear, warm night. A night with a breeze to keep the flies away. Maybe a night earlier in the season when the Milky Way will be visible later in the night and fewer people will be around with their flashlights and headlights.

The northern end of the Milky Way, right over our heads. So many stars, such a lovely night.

And of course I still had the Milky Way shoot above Tahquamenon Falls to look forward to. This was just a practice session, remembering how to focus and camera settings and stuff. But you’ll have to wait to see how that one turned out. I haven’t processed those images yet.

Heck, just retelling the story of our very long first day in the UP has exhausted me! But I hope you enjoyed your short trip to Whitefish Point on a warm August night!


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And Day Three

Here it is already a week since we drove home from our UP adventure and I still have more to show you. Maybe I should stop talking and just let you look.

Oh! I almost forgot! I had whitefish tacos with pickled onions for lunch, our first day, in Paradise Michigan!

On our third and last day in the UP we got headed west toward Grand Marais where I assured my friend we’d find more stones.

If you stop at the little places along the way you’re liable to find the most amazing things.

But along the way we drove up to Deer Park, north of Newberry, and then along Lake Superior’s coast and stopped at a delightful little beach with the prettiest stones!

Just a little stretch of perfect beach.

I don’t think I found any flat white ones, but my friend found quite a few beautiful souvenirs.

They’re even prettier when they’re wet.

And we left a souvenir for someone else to find too.

I hope this doggie has a new forever home now!

And then we headed over to Grand Marais.

A walk to the beach.

Many people searching this beach are looking for agates. I wouldn’t know an agate from a rubber duck, so I just looked for flat white stones to paint. I didn’t find many of those either.

The sky was almost as mesmerizing as the water.

But the weather was beautiful with big fluffs of white clouds dressing up the sky and we had a great time wandering.

There were lots of rock hunters out on such a beautiful day.

We didn’t stay long, we were hungry and still had miles to go to get to Munising, our next stop. But we left a painted treasure for someone to find before we left.

A fish and his food wait for his person to find him.

It’s kind of a long way to go for a sandwich, but we enjoyed the glimpses of Lake Superior that we found along the way. We were hoping to stop at a couple of waterfalls in Munising before heading back to Whitefish Point for the sunset.

Do you see the surprise?

We ate at Subway, noting exotic, but filling. And of course we stopped for a visit with Munising’s Bigfoot, where we left another treasure.

The traffic was terrible in Munising, backed up for miles coming into town from 3 directions. We decided to nix the idea of getting in line to get out to one of the waterfalls, and headed to one that was on the way out of town, Wagner Falls.

The wildflowers, Joe Pye, goldenrod and queen anne’s lace were so beautiful this trip.

There’s a short mostly flat boardwalk back to the falls, and we were lucky that there weren’t many people stopping for a visit.

We took a few pictures…

The roots were pretty too, but I wish people would be kinder to nature.

…and then hid our treasure and were on our way back toward Whitefish Point.

Hidden in plain sight.

We had a long drive to get there before sunset, but we arrived early enough to appreciate the golden light on all the driftwood, and the clouds streaking the sky. This could turn out to be a stunning sunset!

The light was like this for only a few moments.

We wandered the beach, noticing how pretty everything was in the evening light…

Black ‘sand’ filled the crevices in the lighter sand. Art created by nature.

… and how the beach moves and changes every day.

A little bit of art in the middle of nature’s art.

We found a couple of places to hide more treasure and then waited for the sun to settle down and set.

Is the sky going to get prettier? Or is this it for the evening?

Most people left the beach once the sun was below the horizon, but we were out there for the long haul (and to find Yooper Lights) so we waited in the cooling air to see what would happen next.

An eagle appeared at the horizon.

And we were rewarded by intense color and beautiful shapes. It just kept getting better until it finally died into grey. The sun was done for the day, but we weren’t.

The last of the sunset and the beginning of the search.

After the sun was down we looked for Yooper Lights (stones that glow in inferred light) along with a few other late night stone addicts.

Nothing under here.

Though we didn’t find any that night, the night before, on a cold windy evening, we witnessed a young boy and his dad find a stone that glowed. The boy was soooo excited, jumping up and down in the cold Superior waves. We got him and his dad to show us what the stone looked like, and in the midst of the conversation the boy turned and looked at us, his eyes wide and said:

“I really wish I was wearing long pants!”

We roared in laughter, in all the excitement he’d been running in and out of the water of the coldest lake around without a care. Until he stopped to talk to us.

Saying goodbye to Whitefish Point. We’ll be back!

And that’s kind of the way our whole trip was. We didn’t always find what we set out to see, the perfect rock, the perfect view, the perfect sunset.

Trying to get capture that moon.

But the excitement of the whole experience kept us motivated to continue the adventure regardless. And though there were moments we wished we were wearing long pants, on the whole, it was a perfect summer trip. Mosquitoes and all.

Hoping to be noticed.

And just think, there are all those treasures out there just waiting to be found.


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So, as I was saying…

Let’s see, before Katie decided you needed a Katie fix I was about to take you over the Mackinaw Bridge and on into the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. My friend, who was in the passenger seat, got some really cool shots of the bridge as we drove over it. I should ask her to share them here…but meanwhile let’s go see what we saw once we left downstate behind.

On our way to a lighthouse.

You might think that the UP (short for Upper Peninsula) is nothing but trees and lakes and mosquitos. You would, of course, be wrong. Thought not far wrong…there’s plenty of all that too.

For example there’s the lighthouses. Did you know Michigan has more lighthouses than Maine? Yea…I forgot, I told you that factoid a few years ago when we were traveling in Maine.

This one is in Mackinaw City, at the Southern end of the big bridge.

We visited one of them on our first full day in the UP. It’s a lighthouse that’s not easy to get to, and they tell you on their website and in their literature not to try to find it using GPS.

Trust me, they know what they’re talking about.

Only 6.5 more miles to go!

There’s no GPS or any kind of service out there, and you get dropped while you’re still miles away in the middle of the middle of nowhere. You need to follow sandy, sometimes two track roads. But the route is mostly well-marked (except for one very important corner where I had a 50/50 chance of guessing right but went left) so if you pay attention and follow the signs you will eventually get to Crisp Point Lighthouse.

Your first glimpse of Crisp Point Lighthouse makes you smile.

It’s definitely worth the multi-mile drive through the woods on roads filled with deep holes and standing water. Actually, the roads are one of the reasons I love it so. There are fewer people (but not NO people!) out there. You definitely won’t want to take your RV on those roads, and there’s nowhere to turn around, but if you have a car with a bit of clearance you’ll be fine.

Anyway, once you’re finally there, and have breathed your sigh of relief, you’ll be able to climb the tower if volunteers are on duty to open it up. We were lucky and got to enjoy the view from the top.

From inside the tower you can see forever.

And then, since my friend is into rock picking, we walked the beach looking for perfect stones. Though to be honest they all looked like perfect stones to me.

Take your pick, you can’t go wrong!

She’s a rock painter, someone who paints rocks with cute colors and pictures and than hides them for people, often kids, to find. It’s a thing. And I found out how fun it is to hide her painted stones as we left more than a dozen behind during the three days we were out exploring, tucked into crevices across the UP.

Wonder who found this painted turtle?

So I looked for smooth, white rocks that would be good for painting, and she looked for specific types of stones, like quartz (we both found some of that) and granite (lots of it!) and pudding stones (maybe!) and all sorts of others. I don’t remember most of it, but I was pretty good at finding smooth white stones.

Eventually we had to leave this perfect place and find our way back to the world of paved roads. We intended to spend the evening at Whitefish Point, several miles up the Lake Superior shoreline. Maybe there would be a sunset. Maybe there would be stars.

Waiting on the sun.

Maybe…just maybe we’d get to see the last super moon rise up from Lake Superior. And, of course, there’s a lighthouse there too.

An entirely different kind of lighthouse at Whitefish Point.

Well, it turns out there wasn’t much sunset, though it was still beautiful.

The cloudless sky turned orange and the most interesting part were the people watching it set.

And the moon obliterated most of the stars…so we didn’t stay real late, and we made it back to the hotel in Sault Ste. Marie shortly before midnight.

It was amazing.

Just in time to get a good night’s sleep in order to get up and do it all over again in the morning!

Do you see the hidden treasure?

Were should we go next?


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Both ends of the road

While camping midway on M-77 in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula last week I decided to explore both ends of that road.

The colors are changing on M-77 north of M-28 in the UP!

I’d been up at the northern end, which terminates at Grand Marais along the coast of Lake Superior, in June, but it’s such a pretty spot I thought I’d go see what the lake was up to again.

I always love the color of the water against the purple grey clouds during a fall storm on this lake.

As seems to be usual when I visit, it was a stormy day on Lake Superior. Heavy dark clouds made the sky facinating, but made me dash to the car several times as bands of cold rain swept in.

Good thing I brought my raincoat.

That didn’t deter the rock pickers and there were even a few beach walkers out there even during the worst of it.

This guy was riding the waves and wind, while a flock of sandhill cranes in the distance fly against the wind.

But amazingly, the sun won the weather battle and the sky began to brighten. More people instantly appeared to revel in the beauty that is a beach walk in Grand Marais.

Nothing like a brisk walk along the beach once the rain lets up.

I always enjoy my time on the shores of Lake Superior, and this time I didn’t pick up one single rock! Though that might have been due to the weather and not my willpower.

The next morning I headed south on M-77 down to where it ends at M-2, then a bit west to Manistique. My goal was to visit a spring my husband and a friend had both told me I had to see. But first there was this pretty lighthouse off the shore of Lake Michigan.

Reminds me of us, decades ago.

Who can resist, right? It was still windy and cold, but this family out there on the rocks was having lots of fun. Four little kids, they reminded me of my family when we were all that young.

But I was really there to see Kitch-iti-kipi.

This deep, photogenic spring resides within a state park.

What is that, you ask? And how do you pronounce it? Well, maybe I better let you read about it first.

It’s a deep, beautiful spring that maintains a 45 F temperature all year around, even in the cold upper Michigan winters. There’s a barge like flotation that runs on a cable out over the top of the spring.

The colors really are this intense. Especially when the sun shines.

The barge is moved by turning a wheel near the back. Anyone on the barge can turn the wheel and be captain for awhile.

Pull hard to the starboard side!

The center of the barge was open so you could see straight down into the water.

Some big fish down there!

The water was so beautiful, it was mesmerizing. Everywhere I looked people were smiling and happy and chatting and exclaiming over how beautiful it all was.

Such amazing colors!

So, that’s what there is to see at the north and south ends of M-77 in the UP. Since you can’t all get there this fall, I figured you wouldn’t mind if I shared.

Hope you’re smiling now too!

Note: You really should look at these images on something bigger than a phone. You’ll smile wider I promise.


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So…..lighthouses

I’m starting to feel repetitive here. All three of these lighthouses have appeared in this blog in years past. Still, lighthouses are irresistible, so maybe you won’t mind seeing them again. I didn’t mind visiting them again myself.

I was exploring the northern edge of the Upper Peninsualia, when I noticed a sign for Point Iroquois Light, and I remembered visiting it a few years ago.

A beautiful building.

During all the years I lived in the UP I never knew about this lighthouse. But it’s a special one, on a beautiful piece of land with a great view of Canada.

Canadian windmills across the way.

When we were here before it was open and we climbed the tower. This year covid has it closed, but I still enjoyed walking around the grounds. I was taking a picture of the lilac bushes along the front of the lighthouse when I realized there were butterflies everywhere.

Do you see them in this image?

So now you’ll have to indulge me while I show you some of those.

Hold still for a moment!

I spent a long time circling this lilac bush, trying to get a good shot of both types of butterflies.

I love the colors on the underside of this guy’s wings.

They didn’t stay still long, especially, it seemed, never stopping long in the sunlight.

Did you know the body of the monarch is spotted? I didn’t until just a couple weeks ago!

But it was so much fun to try. And in the end I got a few shots that I liked.

What a spectacularly beautiful day.

During this trip I camped at two locations, the first on the Straights, and the second at the mouth of the Hurricane River, where it empties into Lake Superior.

My site tucked into the trees. This was a beautiful, but rustic, campground.

This campground has a lighthouse too. You walk a mile and a half up a beautiful, wide, mostly level path above the shore of Lake Superior, out to the point where the lighthouse sits.

It’s a really pretty walk, though 1.5 miles starts to feel like a long way if you’re carrying all your photography gear.

My goal, when I made the reservation for this campground, was to do some night photography with the lighthouse in the foreground. It was a good plan.

Some of the coast here is rocky. All of it is beautiful.

I walked out there late in the afternoon one day. No one was out there, covid had this lighthouse closed too, so no park rangers were around.

Almost there!

No tourists either as the wind was picking up and another storm was on the way.

Au Sable Light Station, a beautiful compound.

It was kind of nice to have the place to myself.

I loved the colors of the brown ferns in the late afternoon light, with the red brick outbuilding.

On the other hand, it was still a couple of hours until the sun set, and a few more hours after that until it got really dark.

And I loved these sweet daisys with this building down near the water.

I started to feel uncomfortable with the thought of walking back down the path in the dark by myself. Plus there were no open restrooms out there.

The weather was changing.

So I reluctantly gave up on the idea of staying there until the stars came out. But I haven’t given it up totally. I plan to go back but bring someone with me so I’m not out there all alone!

The view from up there is stunning!

In the end it was good I headed back when I did. That evening the thunder began far off and quickly advanced until it was overhead. We ended up having 7 hours of pouring rain, lightening and thunder. I listened to it all from my cozy tent, glad I wasn’t running back through the dark and rain from the point!

As I listened to the pouring rain that night I thought about this open window in the tower. Bet no one closed it before the storm.

My last lighthouse is out at Whitefish Point. It’s a totally different sort of lighthouse from the other two.

This is the image everyone gets from the parking lot. It was starting to rain when I grabbed it.

And the beach there is totally different too.

Filled with huge fallen trees turned driftwood, tossed about by Lake Superior, it’s certainly not a swimmer’s paradise.

I had grand plans of trying to get the Milky Way behind the lighthouse. Or at least some stars.

Would have been cool with the Milky Way behind it.

It was sunny and 85 degrees when I left to drive up to Whitefish Point. When I arrived it was 58, windy and thunder was just off to the west. Another plan foiled.

And then the storm arrived.

So there you have it. Three lighthouses along the south shore of Lake Superior. Worth the trip even if I didn’t capture what I set out to get. I guess that’s the fun (and frustration) of photography.

There’s always next year. You won’t mind seeing them again, right?

It’s all about the light. And avoiding the rain.


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Ashland Wisconsin and Duluth Minnesota

Katie has released the blog back to me so that I can get back to the travelogue…we circled Lake Superior in late August and early September. There was lots to see.

Sturgeon at the Duluth aquarium.

I could do a separate blog about each town we visited, but in the interest of saving some time, here are just a few images from a couple towns before we headed into Canada.

The side of the co-op was covered in a beautiful mosaic. This is only about a third of it.

Ashland was a town in Wisconsin that we were just driving through on our way to Duluth. We weren’t planning on stopping there, in fact the road moved north of downtown, following Lake Superior’s shore.

But we saw a sign that referenced ‘public art’ with an arrow pointing toward downtown, a block away, so we turned toward town. And we were astounded by our first glimpse of huge murals painted on the sides of many of the retails buildings.

The flowers complimented the beautiful mural.

At first we were just going to take a couple of pictures and move on. But then we realized how outstanding these pieces of art were and we parked and walked from one end of town to the other.

These women were real people who worked at the local diner back in the day.

I’m only showing you a fraction, they were all worthy of photos and I took pictures of all of them on the main street. I think there were a couple more further away.

Sometimes the murals melted right into the afternoon sky.

If you ever get the chance to visit Ashland I recommend giving yourself an hour or more. Plus there was an absolutely wonderful burger place right downtown. I had a really good bean burger.

Mural reflections.

I recommend visiting there too.

Then we got back on the road, heading to Duluth.

The bridge into Duluth.

Duluth is a working town, lots of ships coming and going. While we were at the aquarium we saw a big ore boat come into port. And no matter where we went ships were loading or unloading.

I liked the grey ship with the grey sand against the blue sky and water.

You saw the post about the mansion in town. There’s also Pattison State Park, named after the family that built the large house.

Upper falls. It’s hard to see just how big these falls are.

Lots of waterfalls there, and I was still figuring out settings to make the water smooth. Sometimes I got it right.

Working on my fluid water technique on the lower falls.

The first night we stayed on the top floor of a hotel with a view of the city.

Lake Superior, a ship, the iconic Duluth lift bridge and a cloud front. Perfect.

At night it was so pretty. I could show you that…but you can imagine it. I sort of liked this shot from our window.

Lots of color at night.

Just because it’s fun.

OK, OK…here’s the real night shot.

Took this one with my phone. Phones cameras are amazing.

The second night we stayed at a hotel down near the marina with a lovely view of the bridge and boats.

Early morning light on the marina.

Plus we got to drive across the famous lift bridge!

Crossing the bridge.

After two days of sightseeing in Duluth, visiting mansions, lighthouses, waterfalls, the aquarium and Lake Superior we moved on, heading north into Canada.

Pretty and peaceful at the Duluth aquarium.

I guess I’ll have to post at least one more travel related blog or I’ll have abandoned you at the border.

Roses in full bloom at the Leif Erikson Park at the edge of Duluth as we left town.

And there’s plenty to see in Canada.

Stay tuned.

Building on a building in Ashland.


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Houses of different kinds

During the past couple of days we’ve visited a few houses over here in Wisconsin and Minnesota, each one different, but each housing families in the early 1900s.

Our first house tour was in Superior Wisconsin, where we visited Fairlawn, a mansion built in 1891…

Fairlawn mansion.

…the family only lived in the house a few years when Mr.Pattison died unexpectedly. His wife moved the family to California and the house became a children’s home for several decades.

Lots of drapery and carved wood.

Inside the first floor has been restored to look as it did when the family lived there, while the top floors describe what life was like when it housed dozens of children.

We also toured Glensheen, a mansion in Duluth Minnesota.

The grand front of Glensheen.

This one was completed in 1908, and was lived in by an original family member until 1977 when the last daughter died.

The dining room.

With 20,000 square feet, fifteen fireplaces, numerous bathrooms and bedrooms, it’s huge and beautiful.

Lots of carved wood in this house too.

Each of the seven children had their own bedrooms, often with their own bathrooms too.

One of the girl’s rooms.

Most of the rooms had lovely views of Lake Superior. Still, the house was a lot darker inside than what we’re used to today.

Drying linens in the laundry room.

The grounds were beautifully landscaped, complete with a huge vegetable garden, tennis courts and lawn bowling.

The back of the house was more stunning than the front.

Next we headed north, tunneling our way through a couple rocky outcroppings.

Tunneling our way north.

We stopped in Two Harbors Minnesota where we walked the breakwater enjoying a beautiful later summer afternoon.

Such a beautiful day to be near the water.

In the same park was a lighthouse that has become a Bed & Breakfast. It looked wonderful, though it’s privately owned and we couldn’t go inside.

Seems like a perfect spot to relax on the shores of Lake Superior.

Guess we’ll have to make a reservation and stay overnight to see what it’s like to sleep in a lighthouse!

Then we moved on to something that’s been on my bucket list for a long time — Split Rock lighthouse.

We took the tour and learned a whole lot about what life was like when this lighthouse employed three keepers. Then we started to explore.

Stairs ascending the tower.

Up in the relatively short tower there is a truly beautiful lens.

The lens rotates and sending out a bright white light every 10 seconds.

This lighthouse sits high on a cliff; I’ve seen pictures that made me want to see it for myself.

I couldn’t keep myself from giggling with joy when I rounded the corner and saw this jewel of a lighthouse shining in the sunlight.

But nothing could have prepared me for just how beautiful it really is, as seen from the stony beach far below it’s base. I couldn’t stop smiling. It’s just stunning, definitely my smile of the week, and a perfect way to end our exploration of the Duluth area.

We’ll be moving even further north, into Canada, tomorrow. I don’t know when I’ll be able to post again…but you can be sure I’ll have more images and adventures to share when I do!

Me and the lighthouse.


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The reason it’s called the Copper Country

When I left you last you were exploring Calumet, a town built on copper mining money. So just how big were the mining operations, you ask?

These mining buildings have stood at the base of the mountain for more than a century.

Well, the reminders of those days dot the landscape everywhere in the Keweenaw Peninsula. When I lived there, a few decades ago, I got used to seeing historical stone buildings crumbling.

Once a part of a huge complex of buildings.

But I really didn’t see them as I scurried to and fro in my life. On the weekends I’d head out to Lake Superior or the mountains to take pictures but rarely stopped to consider the sad beauty of a world left behind.

Mostly it was all a curiosity to me. Like this stamping equipment. I never stopped to figure out what they were. I guess I considered them sculpture.

Imagine the noise these made when they were in operation! They’re right in the middle of a small group of houses.

These days there’s a sign posted there to explain some of it. They were used to crush rock in order to extradite the copper.

A reminder of what once was.

And then there’s the Quincy Mine. Called “Old Reliable,” it operated from 1846 to 1945.

Quincy # 2 was a reliable producer.

When I lived in Hancock, the Quincy mine shaft was just up the mountain from my house. I never explored it, there could have been deep holes hiding under the overgrown brush, the site was littered with mining equipment and sharp edges. Roofs were falling in. Walls were rusted or collapsing.

Early morning light shines on yesterday’s equipment.

It’s not that way anymore. Now it’s a tourist attraction complete with guided tours.

Still photogenic after all these years.

Though it was closed for the season, we were able to explore the grounds in safety this week on a pretty morning with the sun just coming up. There’s a beautiful building that housed the hoist that glowed in the morning light.

I always loved this building and I’m so glad it’s been saved.

There are a couple of old railway cars waiting for that next load of copper…

This might need a little work to haul anything away these days.

…and several walls of outbuildings that show the beautiful masonry.

Look at those corner stones!

I was thrilled to be able to wander the grounds without fear of falling into a mine shaft.

Looking back through history.

And to do it on the one day in the entire week with sunshine was doubly wonderful.

I loved that the sun was filling this empty building and glowing right out this side!

There are buildings and equipment everywhere. This dredge has been sitting stuck on the bottom of the canal for decades. It looked just like this when I lived there in the late 70s.

Sometimes it seems like nothing has changed at all.

And life is still hard way up north on the peninsula surrounded by Lake Superior.

More than 30 years ago I lived in the upstairs flat. Two of the four rooms didn’t have electricity. I think of it fondly.

Still.

There’s something magical about this place, something hard to explain, hard to put a finger on.

Magic in the morning.

The addictive combination of history and natural beauty gets into a person’s blood.

And it doesn’t ever let go.

Quincy stands tall.