Parts of the U.S. are facing an arctic blast – one of those goofy named weather phenomena. In the past few winters, we haven’t had much winter action in Michigan. So on this occasion, I laced up my snow boots and walked around the neighborhood to see what five degrees felt like.
The bright sun and crisp air were nice for a brief minute. But then the wind would pick up and I felt like my face was stinging.
Not much to say on this, the day after the U.S. election, but a few thoughts I had this morning waking up to the news:
Info bubbles are bad—it’s so important to step outside of what you normally read about or hear and listen to other echo chambers.
“Vibes” alone aren’t enough to sway people who have legitimate concerns about the country’s direction.
Who shows up matters and ultimately determines the outcome. If you don’t have the votes, you don’t win – simple, but hard to execute.
America is a tough place to understand sometimes, and it’s getting tougher.
I’m sad and nervous. I’m also dumping my usual sources for information (Twitter – deleted my account, and Reddit for general browsing) and am committed to casting a weary, skeptical eye on news media reports that seem confident.
In the meantime, we all have feelings to process and art to make. Let’s get back to work.
It’s a false summer night – part of a week full of those final warm days before autumn sets in.
Autumn means marching band season, so Aiden and I headed to Jackson High’s football field for his first practice session. It gave me a chance to catch some of the light and colors around the stadium.
Shot on the Canon M200 with the EF-M 15-45mm kit lens.
The above is the same house taken at the same time of year, within a day or two of each other, just at different times during the morning.
I drive by this little house a few times a week. For months, I’ve thought to myself: “That would make for a good photograph.” Finally, one morning, I had time enough to pull over and take the shot. The first attempt is the one on the left.
The light is okay. There’s a touch on the front porch and a bit on the left near the chair—that golden morning light hitting halfway between the front door and the stairs.
But something felt off when I got back and imported the picture into Lightroom. The house itself is too much in the shade, while the lawn and the trees on the right have a neutral, even light. The fluffy clouds in the upper left are a nice touch though.
So I gave it another try, this time earlier in the morning when the sun was hitting the entire house on the side, coming from the East on the left. Angled shadows hit the lawn and the front of the house, and the sunshine lit up that (cursed) Ohio flag. The porch is a bit more in shade, but there’s still a touch of light hitting the chair.
The temperature of the light, too, is different in the second shot: it is more golden and a bit harsher, painting the scene with a more dramatic brush. I do miss those fluffy clouds from the first image, though.
Both are fine. I’m glad I took another stab at it. The light was worth waiting for.
Here’s the final photo:
Both images shot with the Canon M6 and EF-M 28mm f/3.5 macro.
We’ve always been a musical family, but we officially became a musical theatre family this fall.
The women in our group all joined the cast of Center Stage Jackson‘s Chitty Chitty Bang Bang – my daughter Madelyn taking a lead role as Jemima, Riley as one of the ensemble kids, and Jaime as the wicked baroness.
That meant lots of light nights, back and forth trips to rehearsal, and tired kiddos who aren’t used to staying up late for practice. But the last two weekends, it all came together.
The show’s director, Lisa, is a close family friend, and she let me hang out back stage for some behind the scenes photography.
Supporting the local arts in our communities means showing up, and lending talents where needed.
Lately, I’ve had the itch to get out and shoot more. Sometimes, hobbies can come and go in waves – often depending on what else is going on in life. Right now feels like a crest, where I want go make more photos.
Saturday evening at Sandhill Crane Vineyards was a good chance to shoot. It was a lovely summer evening, with off and on clouds, and the sun was popping in and out of the clouds. As soon as it popped out during sunset, I took a walk around their mini festival to see what I could see.
And something different: I strapped a EF 28mm f/1.8 to my Canon EOS M, using the EF-to-M adapter, for a ~42mm field of view. 40mm tends to be my comfort zone. Even though the camera felt a little front-heavy, the FOV was perfect.
So was the light, and the setting, and the music and drinks all around.
We had a record ice storm hit Michigan last week. It swept across the U.S., but on Wednesday night, it struck the Great Lakes with particular fury.
That night, we listened anxiously while tree branches cracked and fell, breaking power lines all around us. We had an oak tree snap in half and block our street because of the weight of the ice. I braved falling branches the next morning to go around the yard and document everything sheathed in a clear coat. By the afternoon, all the ice had melted. The storm swept in and swept out quickly.
For two nights, we huddled in the basement as a family, wrapped in blankets while the temperature inside the house dipped to 47° F. We only got the power back on Saturday, and what a relief. But driving around town and seeing all the wreckage, we were lucky.
In October, it’s like this all over the midwest: pumpkins, apples, cider, and donuts. Some of our local cider mills are now so busy that we have to go looking for quieter, more intimate places. We found that at Red Egg Farm, just outside of Jackson. It had all the traditional autumn stuff we wanted – cider slushies, hay rides, petting zoo – without the busy crowd of some other places.
We also visited Adams Farm to pick up actual apples (for cider) and pumpkins (for carving) to bring home.
We did fall things, because it’s that time of year.
Last week, to get out of the house, I did the uncool thing and headed downtown to see what it looked like with our governor’s shelter-in-place order.
As Florence sings, it was a city without seasons. March is the November of spring – the weird in-between one. No leaves on the trees, no flowers blooming just yet, and streets as empty as can be.
The truth is that downtown Jackson is pretty empty on weekday nights after 5 p.m. But last week it was extra desolate. I stopped a person or two wandering around downtown, just like me.
Things really got interesting when a guy noticed me taking pictures. “Hey, want to take photos inside the theatre?” This is Jackson’s Michigan Theatre, the city’s lone operational classic theatre. The man was wearing a protective mask. I’m not sure what his role was at the theatre, but he had the whole place to himself. I got the sense, as I was taking photos inside, that the guy was simply lonely. Or he wanted to show off the place. I had to excuse myself after 10 minutes, or else the man would’ve given me the full tour of the place.
So I headed back outside, into the sunshine, to photograph our empty downtown.
With spring coming, and with more light, it’s nice to have the option to get outside and walk around.
Fresh air may be the best hope we all have of staying sane.
