Scene & Story - November 2016

I knew from the moment I saw this photo on my computer that this was my pick for November's Scene & Story.

I often struggle with showing a feeling other than solitude in my photography. This photo is brimming with feeling and emotion, and it may be the turning point in my work.

The scene involves my daughter, her 8-month old golden retriever, Findley, and a hike in the woods at a family favorite state park.

Now you tell me the story...


Joining my friend Leon of Sea Blue Lens for our monthly collaboration.

Therapy

As I prepared to drive north, I plugged my iPhone into the cassette adapter and tapped on the audible.com app. I knew exactly what I needed to hear on my two hour drive - the words of Brene Brown. I pressed start on her book The Gifts of Imperfection, which I also read a few years ago. As I pulled into the Starbucks drive-thru lane I stopped the book. The book wasn't narrated by Brene, I needed Brene's voice as much as her words. Instead I chose The Power of Vulnerability - Teaching on Authenticity, Connection and Courage. Only four months had passed since I last listened to this, but I am a different person than I was four months ago.

My drive north would bring me to a place filled with memories - Ludington State Park. I had been to the park only the week before with my daughter and her dog, Findley. Before that it had been almost a year and a half since my last visit, and before that at least a couple of years, which seems utterly ridiculous for as close as I live.

Being there had awakened all my old loves of the place. The only problem with last week was that it went too quickly. On my agenda for that day had been the 1-1/2 mile trek out to Big Sable Point Lighthouse, where I hadn't been since 2011. But my daughter, being the stickler for family traditions had insisted we do the walking loop around the dam, followed by our packed picnic lunch. After lunch, when Findley would be slightly tired we could take a leisurely stroll on the Lost Lake Trail. At eight months Findley's two speeds are fast and faster, so there was no leisurely stroll and I barely had time to raise my camera and take a few snapshots. But even with Findley's fast pace it was still four o'clock by the time we returned to the car. The journey to the lighthouse would have to wait for another day.

Only a week later, on a perfect early November day, sunny skies and temperatures in the low 60's, I was suppose to be home doing house projects while my daughter and Findley were gone for a few days and I had the house to myself. It is hard to get big cleaning projects done with a puppy running around. But instead I found myself in my car driving back to Ludington State Park and this time I would get to the lighthouse.

Even though I have been coming here for over thirty years, the drive into the park never fails to take my breath away. The summer homes and trees abruptly end and all that's left is the road, the dunes, and wide open space.

I pulled into the beach parking lot at 9:30, still early enough to catch some good light at the Big Sable River outlet to Lake Michigan.

Satisfied with my photographic captures thus far, I set off down the gravel two-track path to the lighthouse. About a half mile down the road, I came upon a sign that said Historic Shipwreck and the arrow pointed over the dune toward Lake Michigan. Hmmm...I didn't remember this from five years ago. Over the dune I went. As I came over the first dune this is what I saw...

Not a shipwreck, but it did give me that fluttery feeling inside. The bench begged to be photographed but it also beckoned for me to come and sit. I took off my camera backpack laid it on the bench and settled in for a therapy session with nature.

In Brene's sessions that I listened to on the way up she talked about the year she spent in therapy, therapy she needed to deal with her own issues that were arising from her work on shame and vulnerability. Maybe that's what I needed, a year of therapy to figure some of my crap out. But as I sat on that wooden bench surrounded by sand dunes, blue skies, Lake Michigan and lot of open space, I realized that photography is my therapy. I have access to it any time I need it, not just in scheduled fifty minute sessions. It may not talk to me in a physical voice like a therapist would, but it does have its own language, and I can hear it if I am only aware.

A few people commented on my last post about how self-aware I am. I am because I intentionally try to be. I want to figure myself out, where I am, and where I am headed. It is not a straight and narrow path, it is a constantly winding switchback without an end in sight.

One of the questions I asked myself as I sat on that bench. Why am I always anxious to travel and explore new places? Especially when places so close to home are amazing and filled with wonderful memories. Too often when I go to new places I feel rushed, always looking for "the shot" and usually not finding it, leaving me disappointed in the trip. But then I come to a place like this park, one that I know well and I can find all kinds of things to photograph, still not always "the shot" but the memories carry just as much weight here as perfect light.

I need to stop chasing the new and exciting all the time and instead seek the familiar places that I love. I think my photography and my writing will be stronger because of it.

Ludington - A Childhood Destination

Last week I took a day trip to a favorite family destination from my childhood - Ludington, MI. My dad, mom, grandmother, and I use to drive up there every summer. My dad behind the wheel of my grandma's mint green, big as a boat, Chevy Impala. We would have packed a picnic for the day, filling it with homemade goodness or stopped for the fast food alternative, Kentucky Fried Chicken. Fast food was still a novelty back in the early 1970's so a picnic in the park with KFC was a real treat. The destination for our picnic was always the city park.

Very little has changed at this park since my childhood days, which I must confess brings me great comfort. The playground still has almost all the same equipment as when I was a kid.

Although the skate park is new within the last decade.

I arrived at the park about quarter to nine, so a little early for a picnic lunch. My first destination was the lighthouse whose pier is located right off the beach at the park.

I haven't walked out to the lighthouse since our daughter was a toddler, and she is twenty-one now, the walk was long overdue. The walk out there was a little windy and chilly, but worth it for the blue sky, the deep blue water and the stunning white lighthouse.

After the park, I drove to the downtown area to begin my walk down memory lane. I am still loving the "walking to discover" concept. I see so many more things than I would if I was driving around.

Many of the streets that I explored I had never been down before, but by taking the time to walk and explore, I found a treasure trove of photographic delights.

If I can find one empty, abandoned looking building per adventure, the whole trip was more than worth while, even if I don't get any other good shots for the day. I found this abandoned gas station a couple streets south of the main street. I never knew it was here...but now I do.

Around the back of the gas station was this grundy overhead service door. Chippy paint love!

This was the door to the left of the big overhead door in the photo above, more wonderful chippy paint and some worn, rusty lettering, double love!

I am still taking the self-portraiture class, so anywhere I find an opportunity to include myself in the frame, all the better. This window was on the back side of the gas station, lovely, unbroken glass panes in a rusty metal grid work frame.

I finally had to tear myself away from all that chippy paint and decay. I continued on with my walk.

Vintage sign love! This town is full of them.

This use to be the most adorable shop filled with cheap souvenirs, I use to get something every summer. A white leather, beaded drawstring purse with the words Ludington in shiny gold lettering stamped on it. A wooden tomahawk with a leather sheath. One year an Indian Chief's huge, feathery headdress. The quality of cheap souvenirs was so much better back in that era, before the introduction of plastic.

This Barber Shop was down some basement steps right on the main street. I never even knew it was there.

The sign for the Stearns Motor Inn is exactly the same as when I was a kid. This sign always greeted us coming into town and it was the last thing I saw leaving town. The Tiki Lounge intrigued me, it made me think of Hawaii Five O, a television series that was on in the 1970's and always came on after I was suppose to be in bed, but a trip to the bathroom could get me a few minutes of viewing. I would stand in the doorway of the bathroom and I had a perfect view of the television, this lasted until a commercial and my parents would catch me watching.

By this time, the sun was getting high in the sky, making photo taking a challenge, so I sought out a deli where I could get a sandwich or a wrap to take back to the city park with me for a picnic.

It wasn't quite the same as my childhood picnics.

On the way out of town I stopped to get a photo of this sign.

Of course, I had to follow the arrow and see if the motel was as cute as the sign.

If I had been braver, I would have walked up to the manager's office and asked if I could take some photos of the charming outside, but I think my brave had been all used up for the day. Maybe next time I will still have some brave left in me.