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.
It’s been a year of new homes, with our family’s, and my dad purchasing a cabin in Hale, Michigan – in the northeast, close to Lake Huron.
We took Independence Day weekend and traveled there for the first time. It was our chance to get out of town, spend some summer days outside, and see a new place.
We found everything we were looking for in the pastoral scenery, the cool and clear lakes, and the natural beauty you find in northern Michigan.
I almost brought a film camera to fit the setting. After all, every 50 miles you go north you travel back in time 10 years. But that will have to wait. I didn’t want to fuss with film and settings and remembering how to use my Canon AE-1. I wanted to keep it simple.
It’s an annual cold-weather tradition: heading to Lake Michigan in the dead of winter to see our nearest Great Lake frozen.
This year, we were near Saugatuck, Michigan, and visited the lake on a sunny but very chilly Sunday afternoon. Visiting Lake Michigan this time of year is like landing on a different planet: cold, windy, the beaches barely recognizable. Beyond the snow hills, the lake was heaving – big waves of ice and snow, full of terrible power.
Before that, we indulged in some hygge at one of my favorite cideries, Virtue Cider in Fennville, Michigan.
I discovered Virtue Cider randomly: one time I grabbed a random six-pack of cider at a local party store. After taking it home and loving it, I’ve been a fan ever since.
The cidery was hosting a Wassail party, but because of the freezing cold, they canceled it. That didn’t stop us. We still wanted a warm lunch and good cider, so we went anyway.
Despite the weather, it’s important to get out and enjoy the cold when you can.
Living in Michigan, no matter where you are in the state, you’re never more than an hour or two away from one of the Great Lakes.
Our proximity to these bodies of water inspires so many of our summer family vacations. This year, we went north to the Traverse City and Leelanau Peninsula region. We love our Door County, Wisconsin vacations so much that we wanted a similar experience this summer. With its apple and cherry orchards, numerous lakes, and varied landscape, the peninsula provided everything we look for in a holiday.
Despite the rain, we had a great vacation – a great mix of playing outdoors, relaxing by the lake, and exploring M-22 and the Sleeping Bear Dunes.
A funny thing happened at the world-renowned dunes: we visited during a particularly foggy day, where all of Lake Michigan was enshrouded in a heavy vapor. From the top of the dunes, you couldn’t see the lake at all.
We all looked on in amazement. It’s like we were staring at the edge of creation – down the dunes, you would fall off the end of the world.
Luckily, further north along the dunes, we did find a place to sit on the beach and swim in Lake Michigan.
Our state is fairly average in almost every way – except the scenery. If this is the edge of the world, we’re happy to be here.
Sunshine, a great lake, and lots of fresh air – we needed it.
After Jaime and I took a trip to South Haven a few winters ago, we swore we had to come back. To see that heaved ice hanging onto the shoreline, to see that frost-encrusted lighthouse again. Maybe grab another beloved shot of strangers trudging through the cold.
The lakeshore is like another planet: a mix of sand and ice, and off in the distance an unfrozen lake. The ice in the pier heaved, like the lake was breathing – a living, swelling mass of ice.
I brought along my seldom-used Tamron 24-135mm zoom lens to give it some exercise. I’m usually a prime guy, but with scenery like this, I wanted to be prepared for whatever came up.
We dragged the kids along with the grandparents with us, too. The children were constantly on a precipice: one slip, and we’d lose them to what felt like the void.
On the ride home, we could’ve all fallen asleep. We were tuckered out. All that cold and fresh air did us good.
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.
After two years of work, interviews, and shooting, my newest community portrait project, Musicians In Jackson, is live and available.
The project, like my previous Artists In Jackson project, is available on the web and in book form. It features local musicians doing interesting things. Each of them represents a unique facet of Jackson’s creative community, from musical theatre to rap to folk, and many styles and media channels in between.
Together, they help make our small Midwestern city a great place to live, work, and play. They help entertain us, heal us, remind us, and connect us. Our musical scene is small, but tight-knit, and gets a ton of support thanks to local venues that value arts and culture. Jackson musicians are just as talented as anywhere else.
Musicians In Jackson took longer than I expected, and I struggled along the way to get the portraits, interviews, and stories done. Something snapped in me earlier this year, where I said to myself, “Enough is enough.” This summer, I made an arbitrary deadline – autumn 2019 – put it out into the world, and then worked like hell to finish the project.
And here it is. I’m excited to share these 14 local musicians with you, and I ask for your support: purchase the book, visit the website, and help me spread the word.
