Change Is Hard

…but change is certain.


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When a three night reservation turns into two.

Six months ago I reserved a campsite on the shores of Lake Huron during a new moon cycle, intent on doing some Milky Way photography. Many years ago Katie and I camped at this state park and I remembered a lighthouse located just a few miles north that might work for night photography.

This is the Sturgeon Point Lighthouse.

My sister drove all the way up from Alabama just to go with me on this photography adventure. Last Monday we set out early in the day so that we had time to scout out the lighthouse location for potential night shots.

My sister noticed this split in color on the lake.

You see, the weather didn’t look promising beyond Monday night. That’s what happens when you have to book something months out. Weather is always the unknown element. We expected a clear night Monday, but rain and cold Tuesday and Wednesday.

We discussed going back home Tuesday if it was miserable.

Monday was a beautiful day.

And we knew we’d only have one night to get the Milky Way. So we needed to be ready.

The lighthouse was just as I remembered it, standing tall on the shores of the Great Lake. We wandered the beach looking for something interesting to put in the foreground.

The bench might look fun under the Milky Way.

Eventually we decided we needed to be quite a bit behind the lighthouse in order to be shooting Southeast where the Milky Way would be. We found a place that might work, tucked low behind a small dune, and made a big X in the sand so we could find the spot in the darkness of 2 a.m., our planned shoot time.

Probably not this angle though.

Then we explored other places on the site, including Baily School which wasn’t open, but we got an interesting shot through the window anyway.

A school room from back in the day.

We wandered down the beach to the south, thinking maybe the rocks out in the water might be interesting. Even if we didn’t end up shooting there at night, they made a nice, minimal, image in the sunshine we were enjoying.

Maybe we could light paint this rock.

Eventually it was time to go check into the campground. If all three days were as nice as Monday we’d have a wonderful time. If only.

Our campsite, right on the shore, was small, but we managed to make it work.

Maybe the weather forecasts were wrong.

We did note that of the handful of people camping along the shore we were the only ones in tents. Perhaps we were a touch too early in the camping season.

The view from our camp site looked promising.

Not to worry, we each had electric blankets and we were confident that we’d be fine. This was not our first spring camping experience.

Our beach. Though it was too cold to swim.

So…you might ask…what happened on Monday night? Did we leave our nice warm, snuggly beds to drive up to the lighthouse at 2 in the morning? Or did the waves lapping on the shore lull us back to sleep after our alarms rang?

Stop! Don’t drive into the lake!

I guess you’ll have to wait and see.


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A day at the beach

You all know that my happy place is just about anywhere on the shores of a Great Lake, but especially Point Betsie, a lighthouse on Lake Michigan.

This is Ace, 2 years old, and Deuce who is 10.

It has sentimental value because it was a favorite place for my parents, who camped near it on their honeymoon back in 1952.

Ace likes to swim.

Though when I think about camping in a green army pup tent in October I have to wonder what my dad was thinking.

Mom and Dad at Point Betsie in 1994.

But they stayed married for more than fifty years.

Deuce likes to stay on dry land.

This week I had the opportunity to wander the beach at Point Betsie with a friend and her two cocker spaniels. We had a beautiful day, cool for the dogs but a bit of sun for us.

Ace got to run free for the first time in his life.

I took my camera equipment including the tripod, in case it looked like we’d have stars. My friend was willing to stay up late with me while I tried to capture the Milky Way.

Deuce is an old hand at managing his freedom. (photo credit, Deuce’s mom)

I don’t think she realized how late that would have to be; the Milky Way isn’t really visible until almost morning at this time of year.

A beautiful beach, and no one around.

But as we walked the beach the clouds rolled in and after a few hours of rock hunting, and a great lunch at a park beside the Platt River in the Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore, we decided to head home.

Posing for treats.

The next day I saw beautiful images posted on Facebook of stars and the Northern Lights, taken the night before at Sleeping Bear Dunes.

Sleeping Bear Dunes from the boat launch at the end of the road.

Yep. I told my friend if I ever suggest we head home early she should just kick me.

Sometimes life throws you a curve.

Katie says it serves me right for going on an adventure without her.

There’s always next time.

Sigh.


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Joyous Lilacs

I’ve seen pictures of the Pt. Betsie lighthouse in lilac season. I’ve been covetous of those images because I’ve never seen it myself, never timed a visit to the lighthouse, one of my favorite places in this state, at exactly the right time.

I always get a happy feeling, deep down inside, at the first sight of the Pt. Betsie beach.

Yesterday, on my way home from a 3 night camping trip near the Sleeping Bear Dunes, I finally got to check that as done.

I mean…how can it get better?

The lilacs were at their peak, the sky was cerulean blue with a few wispy white clouds, we were the only ones there.

Perfection.

The view the other way was pretty striking too.

I have many reason to love this lighthouse, one being it’s where my parents visited during their honeymoon in 1953, and where they went for their 50th wedding anniversary a year before they died.

Gentle waves lapped at the base of the lighthouse.

I like to sit and think about them there, and I hope they were close when I squealed at my first sight of the purple blooms against the white of the lighthouse.

The iconic image. Even though I have hundreds of these I can’t resist this angle every single time I visit.

I imagine they were, possibly, even squealing along.