I WAS THERE

When our sun turns red and swells up like a clown's nose, after the oceans have boiled away and our atmosphere has outgassed, leaving earth breathless and void; whatever it is that we have done here won’t matter much. I understand that true believers and holding out for immortality but I’m a skeptic, content here in the moment. Yesterday I drove in the dark just to be in a particular high meadow for sunrise with camera in hand, soaked shoes and socks on my feet and at least an idea of where and what I wanted to do. The light is never what you expect so you improvise. Discovery is part of the process; when, what you stumble over isn’t what you were looking for but it delights you in a simple revelation. If you get one great photo in a day, it’s a good day. My morning had been good.

The forecast called for rain in the afternoon and it was raining. The drive back down the lakeshore would be an easy three hour trip and I thought about all the possible detours I could take, just to change the scenery. In Frankfort, Michigan I noticed the wind had come up with whitecaps spilling over the breakwater. As an afterthought I reasoned, I could get back to Grand Haven in time for sunset photos so I got back on the freeway and set the cruise control. When I arrived there were several photographers with their tripods already set up in the sand. The wind was whistling out of the west at 30-35 mph and 10 ft. swells were pushing up the river channel. There was still the better part of an hour to kill before sunset but there was plenty of action to work with. Digital photography allows for as many frames as you care to review. The cost of film and dark room is no longer a limiting factor.

A dozen surfers were working the waves on the south side of the pier. Lake Michigan water temperature should be around 50 degrees in mid October and the thought of jumping in, wet suit or not, gave me the He-Be-Jeebies. Two or three times a minute a big wave would dead-center the pier head, sending a wall of water up and over the top of the lighthouse. I started taking photos. Holding the camera steady wasn’t a problem but standing still in the wind was. As the sun sank lower the light changed, settings changed and the same view offered a new look. As the gold hues faded and the sun sank below the horizon, the sky went blue again and the bronze reflection coming off the side of the pier gave way to silver. I kept shooting, around 300 frames in twenty minutes. 

When that day does come and earth sighs its last sigh, the fact that I took photos on the pier at Grand Haven won’t mean anything. The fact that sunset after sunset people are drawn from all over the world to that beach won’t mean anything. But it means a lot to me in the present; I was there. I was there with the wind in my face, keeping water off my lens, and timing, getting the timing right. Whatever it is that gives us pure joy in the moment will have been the reality and I was part of it. Regardless of whether or not it gets written, the history of this earth will include a footnote that I was there at Grand Haven Lighthouse, taking photographs and it was awesome.