I don’t know when I first became enamored with lighthouses, but as my devotion to landscape and nature photography continues to grow, so does my fascination with visiting lighthouses and photographing them.

Perhaps lighthouses intrigue me because they are such a study in contrasts. Lonely and morose, yet hopeful and bright, these enigmatic beacons seem unavoidably intertwined with tales of tragedy as well as triumph. Pummeled by the wickedest waves through the wildest storms, they stand as steadfast sentries signaling to ships and boats in distress, often saving lives in the process. But when one starts delving their colorful histories, one encounters just as many dark and mysterious tales involving lives lost during stormy peril. Just as common are the melancholy and ghostly tales of lonely keepers and their wives who have succumbed to madness due to hours of isolation and boredom. Since I am always one to devour a dramatic story, and since I love being near the water, how could I not gravitate toward the spellbinding stories lighthouses have to tell?

Recently I shared a photo of a lighthouse on my Facebook business page https://www.facebook.com/StorytellerPhotographyImagesbyRebecca/ and the image garnered almost 600 likes (and counting). Six hundred likes is a record-breaker for me for one single image, so I suppose there are plenty of people who feel just as attracted to lighthouses as I do.

The photo (shown below) featured Presque Isle North Pierhead Lighthouse in Erie, PA.

I captured the image the evening of July 4th as a fat, yellow-orange moon ascended from the skyline and numerous Independence Day fireworks erupted in the distance. I titled the photo “Trifecta!” because the odds of seeing all three of those things at one time really did feel like hitting a photographer’s lottery.

Being in the right place at the right time wasn’t totally luck, though. Behind the scenes my boyfriend and I had carefully calculated the time and location of the moonrise. We had also hurried through underbrush and marshes along the shores of Lake Erie to be at the perfect angle so when the moon was directly over the lighthouse I could click the camera’s shutter button. Despite wet feet and mosquito bites it was definitely worth it. Just look at how that full moon shimmers on the water. It is a moment I will never forget!

Of course, when one thinks of Western Pennsylvania or Northeastern Ohio, one is more inclined to visualize woods, farms and cornfields than lighthouses. Yet lighthouses are a unique part of the landscape due to our proximity to Lake Erie.  I lave lived in Northeastern Ohio my entire life, and not long ago it became my mission to visit and photograph all of the lighthouses along the American side of Lake Erie. So far I have pointed my camera at the following lighthouses in Ohio, Pennsylvania and New York states: Conneaut West Breakwater,  Ashtabula, Fairport Harbor West Breakwater, Fairport Harbor, Lorain, Vermillion, Huron Harbor, Marblehead, Presque Isle,  Presque Isle North Pierhead, Barcelona, and Dunkirk.

Below are a few photo highlights from my trips.

Huron Harbor Lighthouse, built in 1936. More info. here: https://www.lighthousefriends.com/light.asp?ID=279

Port Clinton Lighthouse, built in 1896. More info. here: https://www.shoresandislands.com/things-to-do/port-clinton-lighthouse?id=512690

Marblehead Lighthouse at dawn, built in 1822, more info. here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marblehead_Light_(Ohio)

The photo of Marblehead (above) was taken at sunrise in early January a couple of days before my birthday. My boyfriend and I woke up at 3 a.m. and traveled three hours to be there as the sun crested the horizon. What a gorgeous and unforgettable moment is was! I plan to go to Marblehead again soon, as well as the other Lake Erie lighthouses I have not yet visited (there are at least a dozen still on the list). Before the summer ends I am also planning a trip to the shores of Lake Ontario in New York where I will not only photograph lighthouses but spend the night at a luxurious lighthouse bed and breakfast called Braddock Point https://braddockpointlighthouse.com/.  As you can probably imagine, I am pretty darn excited about this! Oh, and I am also hoping to venture to Maine soon as well as Prince Edward Island in Canada. It seems there are lighthouses all over the place up that way.

Until then, though, I will keep exploring the Great Lakes. If you are a fan of my images then you probably already know how I love to photograph lighthouses during stormy weather.  There are a handful of Lake Erie lighthouses  within about an hour’s drive of my home–Fairport Harbor, Conneaut Westbreaker and Ashtabula–that I frequent when forecasters predict gale force winds. Below are some of my favorite storm images:

It’s not that I don’t enjoy capturing images of lighthouses during fair-weather.  There is so much optimism and tranquility in seeing a freshly-painted lighthouse surrounded by sparkling blue water, or in witnessing the first flashes of a lighthouse’s beacon as the rosy hues of a summer sunset fade into dusk.

In 2018 I visited two of my favorite summertime vacation spots–beautiful, bustling Mackinac Island in Michigan and the remote windswept beaches of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. I was delighted to encounter a handful of lighthouses during my travels. The sunny weather made for some cheerful lighthouse photos to contrast the mood of the stormy collection of images pictured above.
Round Island Lighthouse, circa 1895, Straits of Mackinac. More info. here: http://www.mightymac.org/roundislandlighthouse/

Grand Island East Channel Lighthouse, circa 1868, Grand Island, Mich. More info. here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Grand_Island_East_Channel_Light

Round Island Passage Light, Straits of Mackinac, Mich. More info. here: http://www.mightymac.org/lights.htm

It may surprise you, but Michigan wins the title of having the most lighthouses in the United States (more than 130 guard its 3,000 miles of coastline). I don’t know about you, but I initially assumed that title would belong to a state bordering the ocean. Maine ranks number two, by the way, with more than 60 lighthouses.

So how about you? Are you also enamored with lighthouses? Are you fortunate enough to live near a location where there are lighthouses, or are you as far from a lighthouse as the cornfields of Kansas? Do you prefer carefree, sun-kissed photos of lighthouses, or are you more drawn to the brooding yet spectacular images taken during storms? When you see a lighthouse do you first imagine a symbol of hope and reassurance, or do you see a lonely, foreboding structure against an unforgiving horizon? For me it will probably always be a mixture of both, and thus the intrigue continues.  Life itself is a mixture of sunshine and tempests, after all. May we strive to do our best as we navigate the ever-changing waters, and may we stand as solid and unwavering as a lighthouse in every unexpected gale.

As my images continue to reach a wider audience, a lot of people send me messages asking questions about my photography. I have noticed the points of curiosity are usually the same, so I decided to write a short blog and answer the most common questions people ask.

Q: How long have you been a photographer?

A: I have enjoyed photography as a hobby since I was a teen. I minored in photography at Youngstown State University in the late 1990s when I was pursuing a bachelor’s degree in journalism. At YSU I learned the camera basics and how to develop images in a darkroom as well as a little bit about studio lighting.

After graduating from YSU in 1998 with my bachelor’s in journalism I worked briefly as a photo assistant at a photography studio in Canfield, Ohio and then was hired as a reporter for The Vindicator of Youngstown, Ohio. For many years my primary creative focus was writing. I wrote two novels and worked as a reporter and freelancer, but I continued to enjoy photography as a hobby.

I used a film camera until around 2007 when my film camera broke and I bought a little point-and-shoot digital camera. I was then immediately hooked on digital and wondered why I had been so stubborn about making the switch! However, I didn’t buy my first professional digital camera (a Canon Rebel t3i) until 2012. It was around this time that I became serious about becoming a professional photographer and started my business.

I consider myself mostly self-taught in both digital photography and Photoshop. I learned a little bit of Photoshop while I was in graduate school at YSU getting my master’s degree in English, but most of what I do now I have learned on my own, along the way. I have found Youtube to be a great resource for learning about photography and Photoshop etc. There is truly a video on almost every topic! I also must give credit to my friend and web designer, Andrea, who is a Photoshop wizard. She has taught me a thing or two about the program as well.

Q: What kind of camera do you use?

A: I currently shoot with a Canon 5D Mark III.

Although a professional camera is definitely important, I must add that the camera is only part of the equation in capturing good photos. Other factors include: the type of lens the photographer uses, the photographer’s editing software, and of course, the photographer’s artistic vision and expertise.

Always remember – you can hand 10 photographers the same camera and lens, and each will capture something different, so it’s never just the camera that determines a winning image.

Q: What kind of editing software do you use?

A: I process my images with Photoshop 5. I edit some images a great deal; others I barely touch. It just depends on the image and what kind of feeling I am trying to evoke with the image.

Q: Do you think too much Photoshop is “cheating”?

A: No. Although I think it is absolutely essential to know how to use a camera in manual mode and to understand light, I consider photography to be an art form, and I consider Photoshop as just another artistic tool. I think you would be hard-pressed nowadays to find a professional photographer who does not use some type of digital editing software to manipulate and enhance their images.

There are many different kinds of photography—there is fine art photography (which typically involves a lot of editing), and there is photojournalist photography (which captures things as they are). I am comfortable doing both, and I think each has a value and purpose.

Q: Do you provide photography lessons?

A: Not at this time. Maybe in the future. I have too many irons in the fire already. 🙂

Q: Can I shadow you on a landscape / nature photo shoot?

A: I am flattered that people ask, but when I venture out to do nature photography in the early morning or evening I am either by myself or with my boyfriend. I am a naturally introverted person who likes to do my creative work in solitude, so I have never invited anyone along for the ride. I have considered making videos of some of my experiences, but I have not yet had time to learn this skill.

Q: What advice would you give aspiring photographers?

A: This is a complex and long answer, and it’s hard to summarize the answer succinctly, but I will try.

The first thing I will say is photography is a very saturated market. I don’t say that to discourage anyone, but the reality is that many photographers do their photography as a side gig and have a “real” job because they can’t make a decent full-time wage as a photographer. I am not saying it can’t be done—because it can, and there are photographers who are highly successful—but to be in that bracket you have to be really good at what you do and you have to have a good head for business. (I continue to work on both.)

Another harsh fact is this: people often don’t want to pay a good photographer what they are worth because they don’t realize how challenging the job truly is or what goes on behind the scenes to produce quality images. Quality photography is not as easy as the snap of a shutter button although it seems many people believe it is.

If you already realize what the obstacles and challenges are, but you really love photography and want to make a living at it, then my second piece of advice would be to commit yourself to being the best you can be, finding your unique vision and niche and working hard to achieve your goals.

I believe this is a field where there is always something new to learn, and I don’t pretend to know everything. Be humble, strive for excellence and work hard. That is my best advice not only for photography but for life in general.

Thanks to everyone who follows me on social media and appreciates my work. I truly value your enthusiasm and interest!

 

Recently I looked at some photos I produced when I first decided I wanted to be a professional photographer. Let me be honest and confess they weren’t very good. These were taken about seven years ago, and although photography had long been a hobby of mine and I had a natural “eye” for the medium, I had much to learn when it came to advancing to the next level.

As I studied these images representative of my early endeavors I felt mixed emotions. On the one hand I thought: Well, you have learned a lot and improved lightyears since then, so that’s something to be proud of! On the other hand I thought: Those old images are rather embarrassing! And to think you shared them on social media! Seven years from now are you going to look back at your current work and cringe and ask yourself: “What was I thinking?”

“What was I thinking?”

It’s something we’ve all asked ourselves at some point in our lives, whether in relation to our professional or personal decisions. To err is human, and we all miss the mark from time to time. In our present lives right now—today—we are likely mistaken or misguided about something we believe to be true. Our blind spots are part of our humanity. Years from now we will likely look back and wish we had done something differently, or wish we had realized something we don’t realize now. Who among us does not wish they could share nuggets of hard-earned wisdom with their younger self? Who among us has never said: “I wish I knew then what I know now.”

As I studied my early work and cringed, I started to feel a little dejected. I begin to wonder if life is merely a humbling and disappointing process of looking back and lamenting your ignorance as you identify what you should have done differently.

But then I started to think about it in a more positive way. First, I reminded myself of all the times I had gotten things right. Second, I started thinking about the value of practicing compassion toward oneself in regard to “not knowing any better.” And third, I reminded myself that art, like life, is a never-ending growth process, and to cease to grow and improve is to become stale and lifeless.

Let’s examine these three points further.

#1. When noticing your blunders, don’t forget your bull’s eyes. 

As you evaluate your journey and notice ways you may have failed, don’t forget to take note of all of your successes. Seven years ago I did have a lot to learn (and still do, no doubt!), but I did manage to grow a photography business from the ground up, and I did become good enough at what I do to gain a steady clientele and a decent reputation. Am I satisfied where I’m at? No way! I want to keep getting better and keep learning new things. I want to hone my business skills and push my creativity and my technical ability. I also want to combine my photographic images with my first love—writing—in innovative and inspiring ways. I have only just begun!

#2. Practice compassion toward yourself along your artistic journey.

I have always been my harshest critic. While this might create a tireless drive toward perfectionism, it can also create self-defeating belief systems. As I’ve grown older (and hopefully wiser) I’ve realized that while it’s important to strive toward continued improvement, it’s equally important to love oneself through the process. If you can look in the mirror and say: “I did the best I could with what I knew at the time” then there’s absolutely nothing to cringe about!

It’s easy enough to recognize when we receive love and compassion from someone else. Who among us doesn’t remember those individuals who offered a helping hand during life’s storms? As the late, great Mya Angelou once said: “People forget a lot of things but they’ll always remember how you made them feel.” They say troubled times show you who your true friends are, but a lesson even more valuable than realizing who your true friends are is realizing how important it is to be your own advocate and friend. Love yourself when you succeed, and love yourself when you fail. That doesn’t mean we should stop critiquing ourselves or stop aiming to do better, but when we goof up we need to say, hey, it’s OK. You’ll do better next time.

#3. The creative process is a never-ending journey of growth and expansion.

There is a saying: “To cease to change is to cease to live.” I believe the same can be said for the creative process. All artists, no matter their medium, have their own style, yes, but ideally that style will deepen and undergo various forms of metamorphosis during the artist’s career.

When I look at the photographic images I produced seven years ago vs. the ones I produce now, I can see tremendous growth, not only in style and technical ability, but also in how my photographer’s eye has sharpened. The photographer’s eye is a strange thing. When I was first starting out I often did not “see” what was right in front of me, but today I see details I never would have noticed before. Today if I look at an image I once deemed satisfactory I can immediately identify weaknesses that once escaped me.

I suppose life is the same way. As we advance and evolve, we will (ideally) grow wiser and our blinders will fall off. It’s as if life can be summarized in different stages of being asleep vs. being awake. As I continue to “wake up,” I will probably make mistakes, but instead of cringing and expecting perfection from myself, I am learning to embrace this never-ending process of awakening and expansion, and I am learning to do so with a self-evaluation that’s thorough and clear but also compassionate and forgiving.

As I travel life’s journey I welcome every opportunity to become the best version of myself as both an artist and a human. I am grateful that I find such purpose and happiness through the creative outlets of writing and photography. As I peer backward I am learning  to cringe less and to instead feel thankful and proud about how far I have come.Photo taken in Hartola, Finland.

 

 

 

 

Recently I photographed a sculpture by Northeastern Ohio artist and friend, the wildly talented Gail Trunick.  (More about Gail here: www.gailtrunick.com )

Her sculpture, titled “Creativity Killers,” is the clay torso of a woman that has been imprinted with words of judgment and discouragement typical of what creative people encounter while pursuing their dreams. Phrases such as “Not worth the risk!” “It doesn’t look right!” “Don’t make a mistake!” “Follow the rules!” “You’re too old!” “You’ll never amount to anything!” “Quit daydreaming!” “Keep quiet!” are scrawled across the woman’s back and chest. She wears a weary, vacant expression and one hand clutches her abdomen and appears to inflict scratch marks.

The self-inflicted wound seems to represent the frustration and defeat she feels as she faces an onslaught of judgment and criticism.  The negativity seems to have penetrated and stained her very soul.

I love all of Gail Trunick’s work, but this piece really resonated with me. It caused me to reflect upon the sometimes vulnerable nature of creative energy as well as things that poison and squelch the flow of that energy.

Maybe we don’t think of creativity as an act of bravery or vulnerability, but it takes a certain amount of risk and confidence to produce any kind of art and share it with the world. Art comes from the heart and soul, and by sharing it with others, the artist exposes intimate portions of themselves either for praise or for scrutiny. Since many artists are thin-skinned, sensitive types, scrutiny can be rough, even debilitating. While constructive criticism is absolutely necessary for artistic growth, scathing, mean-spirited critique can make an artist want to give up altogether.

Unfortunately, we live in a world where mean-spiritedness abounds, particularly on social media. Log into Facebook or any similar site, for example, and you’ll find vast numbers of folks who seem to thrive on interjecting rude, nasty comments. I have never understood this kind of meanness; indeed it’s one aspect of human nature I shy away from.

And then there are the naysayers. The ones who always know better than you and think it’s their duty to tell you your dreams are impractical, unattainable or stupid. These are the ones who throw a soggy blanket over your innovative fire. The ones who tell you not to quit your day job, or you’ll never amount to much.

There will always be someone who has something negative to say, or someone who wants to diminish and denigrate. They might tell you they’re doing it for your own good, but quite often it’s really because they, themselves, are swimming in misery and need to inflict misery onto someone else.

Such is the way of the world, I suppose, and it brings to mind the old adage: You can’t please everyone so you might as well please yourself. It’s true that artists certainly can’t please everyone with what they create, and this train of thought led me to an interesting question: Who exactly do I create my art for?

Since childhood, I have considered myself two things: an artist and a writer. From the time I could hold a pencil in my hand, I was either drawing pictures or writing stories. There was a restless energy within me that required me to constantly create, create, create in order to feel content. I am in my 40s now, and that restless feeling has never dissipated, although these days—for purposes both practical and pleasurable—my innovative energy flows primarily into the realm of photography.

So who exactly do I create my photographs for? I suppose the answer is threefold.

First, and perhaps most obviously, I create my images for the people who enjoy them. All art is subjective and not everyone will appreciate an artist’s style or message, but there will always be those who do. There are people who follow me on social media and write complimentary and enthusiastic comments, and of course it always feels nice to read those remarks. It feels great to know my hard work and vision are being validated. Imagine a symphony performed without an audience, or a book carefully penned but never intended for the eyes of a reader, and you can easily grasp how art is an interactive process with a giver and a receiver. If I brightened someone’s day by sharing a beautiful landscape image, or if I provided someone with a cherished portrait of a loved one, then my creative endeavors were a success. Maybe we can’t please everyone with our work, but the ones we do please, the ones who “get” what we do—yes, absolutely, the art is for them!

So who else do I create for?

Maybe the second part of the threefold answer is also rather obvious, but I believe all artists create for themselves. Any creative soul who has ever been “in the zone” while working on a project knows that feeling of total freedom and contentment. There’s no worrying about the past or the future when you’re in the now and loving every minute of it. There’s also that feeling of being plugged into something greater than yourself—a living, breathing creative flow of energy that grabs hold of you and carries you along for the ride as you breathe life into a project and it’s carried to fruition. Writers call this phenomenon “being visited by the muse.” I’ve felt “the muse” often while crafting fiction, and I’ve also felt it while on photographic adventures in the wee small hours of dawn or the golden hours of dusk. It’s a thrilling and exhilarating sensation when it occurs, and I do believe it’s connected to the Divine. Even when art is being fashioned from a place of pain or darkness there’s something cathartic and healing about turning trauma into something meaningful and amazing. So yes, absolutely, artists create for themselves!

Finally—speaking of a divine power—I believe we artists create because it’s what our creator fashioned us to do. I believe artists can contribute to the greater good of humankind because art truly does have the ability to change the world. Just stop for a moment and think of famous works of literature that altered and enlightened collective mindsets, or of popular music that brought people together and made them forget their differences and prejudices, even if just for a moment. Think of photographs or paintings that have educated and encouraged people to recognize and appreciate social injustices in a new way—to see things beyond their narrow perceptions of the world. For an artist, I believe there is no greater honor than to produce something that will profoundly touch humanity, and I believe it is truly a gift from the Divine to be able to do so. Now, I am not suggesting for one moment any of my photographs have the power to do anything as immense as this, but I will say that it is wonderful if one of my landscape images brings someone peace or makes them appreciate nature more. If someone sees my images and starts paying closer attention to sunrises and sunsets, or if they begin to notice and revere the way the morning light sparkles on a dewy field, then I think maybe I have done my job and left a positive mark in this vast and troubled world.

When you share your art, there will always be someone who has something negative to say, or someone who wants to weigh you down instead of encouraging you to take a leap and fly. But creativity is a spark from the Divine. So keep creating, keep shining your unique light.  Along the way strive to improve and do seek constructive criticism, but ignore the meanness and the nitpickers and naysayers.

I will leave you with some recent images.

Peace.

 

Today is Dec. 31, 2019—the last day of the year and the last day of the decade. Wow! It’s been six years since I started Storyteller Photography: Images by Rebecca. During that time, I’ve learned a lot and grown a lot as an artist and businesswoman and connected with a lot of wonderful people along the way. As I sit at my desk writing this blog I feel ready for 2020. I am ready for continued growth and new opportunities. I am ready to gather all the hard-earned wisdom from the past decade and step into the ‘20s with a renewed commitment to achieving my goals and living my best life.

One of my goals for 2020 is to publish a book of photos and poetry / inspirational reflections. I am working on this book now and hope to have it completed by March. Stay tuned!

Another goal I have is to gain a wider following of Facebook fans on my business page https://www.facebook.com/StorytellerPhotographyImagesbyRebecca/.  I am known in my little corner of the world for my landscape images, but I’d like to expand my fan base far beyond Northeastern Ohio and Western Pennsylvania. So if you are reading this and you are living somewhere else on this great big planet, please, please share this blog and suggest my Facebook business page to your friends! I currently have about 3,100 likes on my Facebook business page, and I’d love to see a significant growth in that number by 2021.

Another one of my new year’s resolutions is to continue to perfect my craft and grow as an artist. Whether it’s learning to use new equipment, or experimenting with new lighting, or finding continued ways to combine my love of writing and imagery, I am committed to being the best I can be and to inspiring people with what I do. When I look back at images I produced a couple of years ago and cringe, I actually consider this to be a good thing! It means I am growing! It means my vision continues to sharpen and I continue to push myself! I work tirelessly when it comes to self-improvement and achieving my goals, and if I can sit back at the end of the year and say I learned something or improved somehow, then I feel satisfied.

I have other new year’s resolutions, but I am going to keep this blog short and sweet and end it by sharing some of my favorite landscape images from 2019.  A big thanks to everyone who follows me on social media and appreciates my art and to everyone who purchased prints or portrait sessions or wedding packages in the past year. You helped me provide for my family and helped me create the life I aspire to live. Thank you! I wish you a prosperous and blessed new year!

And now for some landscape images from 2019:

Take a drive along the country roads of Northeastern Ohio and Western Pennsylvania and you’ll see plenty of old barns.

Hundreds of them, in fact.

Some have been tended to with the utmost care and stand proudly against the wind and rain, while others are sinking sadly to the ground, their tangled timber skeletons a forlorn testament to their former greatness.

Others teeter somewhere between life and death—still standing, but looking rather shabby and ready to slide into ruin without proper and immediate care.

While driving along I notice them all–old and new, sturdy and rickety–and if I have my camera with me, you can bet I will want to stop and take a picture. I am not sure when my fascination with old barns began, but if you’re a fan of my work then you already  know how much I love to photograph them.

Often it’s the oldest, most decrepit barns that intrigue me the most. Their tenacity against the elements impresses me.

They may be hanging on by a thread, but they’re still standing, by golly, and still fighting the good fight!

I can’t help but root for them, and it’s always sad when they finally succumb to the furies of Mother Nature.

When I look at these ageing barns I imagine them in their glory, filled with farmyard animals, with bales of hay and sacks of grain bulging from their spacious interiors. I imagine the sun-bronzed farmers who toiled in their sunlight and shadows, and the bustle of activity that enveloped them throughout the cycle of the agricultural seasons.

When I contemplate what they once were, these old barns seem a little bit like ghosts. They’ve seen so much in their lifetimes. If you listen carefully, it’s almost as if you can hear them whispering about the days of yore before they fell from hubs of agriculture to lonely vessels of idleness, enduring countless cycles of freeze and thaw and endless seasons of snow and rain.

Maybe I love old barns so much because I feel like each one is an old friend wanting to tell me a story.

When I was a kid I always wanted to live on a farm, and there happened to be an abandoned farm behind the house where I grew up on Pymatuning Lake Road in Andover, Ohio. This 19th-Century farm sat far off the road up on a knoll. It had a long, shady lane, an 1850s Greek Revival home and a proud, old barn with siding worn to silvery-gray.  That barn watched like a sentinel over the spacious field behind the house where I lived.

Whenever I would explore this 1800s property I felt as if I had stepped into another time and as if the past was at my fingertips magically available to me through a thinly veiled portal of mystery. I loved to soak in the atmosphere there, and perhaps that’s where my fondness for farms and old barns was born. That particular old barn burned down eventually and the house was torn down, but I’ve never forgotten the rich presence of that place.

I have long been in love with the faded tales of times gone by and with history and antiques, and as a photographer I imagine I will always be drawn to capturing images of things that are old or forgotten, especially barns. I am naturally sensitive to their legacies and in awe of their stories and secrets, and I hope my images will help you appreciate them and enable them to live on after they are gone. That is one of the miracles of photography — the camera’s ability to capture for us what once was and what will never again be.

Have a great day. Go hug an old barn! 🙂

I live in a small town in Northeast Ohio, and because of my landscape photography, a lot of the locals know me by name. On more than one recent occasion I have encountered area residents who have expressed admiration for my work and then joked with me about how I must wake up REALLY early to capture the sunrise images I am known for.

“You must never sleep!” they’ve remarked. “Exactly what time do you wake up?”

It is true that I get up early when I happen to peek out the window and the skies look promising. Folks might be surprised, however, to know that my relationship with morning hasn’t always been a good one. In my younger years I was a night owl who adored the hush and solitude of the wee small hours and the luxury of sleeping late. There was a delicious satisfaction in hitting the snooze button and snuggling deeper into the pillows while the birds chirped outside the window. In those days I kept the blinds shut tight because bright light in my sleepy eyes was a particular brand of torture I did my best to avoid.

This all changed, however, when I became passionate about landscape photography and realized those first glimmers of dawn yield some of the most fantastic images possible. Thus, I have morphed from a night owl to an early bird, and daybreak has become one of my favorite times—a time of spiritual rejuvenation, delight and wonder.

Occasionally I will share an image on social media and caption it: “Have you ever seen a sunrise (or sunset) that made you feel lucky to be alive?” I pose this question because I believe when we immerse ourselves in the beauty and wonder of nature we can quiet our worries and be present in the here and now. We can breathe deep and feel grateful we are alive in this moment on this planet earth. Living in the here and now isn’t easy for us humans. We fret about the future, and we ruminate about the past, but the moments when we surrender to the here and now seem to bring us the greatest peace and happiness.

And, hey, it’s difficult NOT to be present in the now as you watch a magnificent sunrise (or sunset) unfold before you!

I’ve spent many hours chasing sunrises (and sunsets), and I’ve observed a few things about them.

First, Mother Nature’s heavenly palette is quite unpredictable.

Sometimes it’s easy to foretell that a sunrise (or sunset) is going to be unforgettable. The wow factor often boils down to one thing: clouds.  A clear, blue sky simply cannot produce the same stunning visual effects as a partly cloudy sky can.  Below are some examples of this:

Of course,  a sky with too many clouds isn’t a favorable thing either, although sometimes an overcast, gray sky can suddenly and unexpectedly explode with vibrancy as the sun vanishes below the horizon line. Usually when this happens it’s not only surprising but also very short-lived.

And that brings me to my second observation about sunrises (and sunsets): The window of time for capturing amazing images is very brief.

You have to move fast because those wondrous colors dissolve in a hurry. The sky can change from extraordinary to blah within a matter of seconds. It’s rather astonishing how in the blink of an eye the glowing hues appear and then fade and disappear. Without the camera they’d be lost forever, existing only in our memory.

Perhaps this is just another aspect of dawn (and dusk) that helps to create and foster an awe and appreciation for life itself. Sunrises (and sunsets) represent the brevity of all that is precious and miraculous. They are a gentle reminder to: enjoy the moment; show the people you love what they mean to you; take that chance (whatever it may be); and live that dream. It all sounds very cliché, I know, but on the day you die these are things you will reflect upon with satisfaction or regret. These are the things that will matter the most–the things you will wish you had embraced the hardest within the margins of this meteoric and mysterious existence.

So that brings me back to my original topic about why I wake before dawn. My favorite poet, the late Mary Oliver, penned these beautiful words about rising early in the morning:

Why I Wake Early
by Mary Oliver

Hello, sun in my face.
Hello, you who make the morning
and spread it over the fields
and into the faces of the tulips
and the nodding morning glories,
and into the windows of, even, the
miserable and crotchety–

best preacher that ever was,
dear star, that just happens
to be where you are in the universe
to keep us from ever-darkness,
to ease us with warm touching,
to hold us in the great hands of light–
good morning, good morning, good morning.

Watch, now, how I start the day
in happiness, in kindness.

Morning is a time of renewal, gratitude and possibility. So the next time you find yourself standing  under a great dome of colored sky, stop and take a deep breath and savor what has unfolded before you. You are here and you are alive. It’s a new dawn. To quote the poet Mary Oliver once more: “Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”