It was quite peaceful out at 6:45 am on the first morning of the new year. As I drove out to the lake with my camera gear in the back of the car, I imagined a large percentage of people sound asleep or perhaps just getting home from their festivities of the prior evening. Not much traffic on the roads, and when I did encounter someone, I immediately thought “what the heck are you doing up?”
Heading east, I found myself evaluating the sky for potential. Clouds are good, a fairly solid ceiling with open horizon even better. Morning light has been quite good the past few mornings while out dog walking. Conditions are looking promising.
It is still quite dark out when I arrive to my spot, just the faint glow of nautical twilight on the horizon. The big question on my mind was how much ice, if any, existed on the lake. I had been out here a week prior, and there was no ice, clear sky. The weather in Michigan had decided to start acting like winter again the past week.
My first indication of what conditions would be like was when I cracked open my car door to start getting my camera gear. It was like I opened a vault door to a wind tunnel. I immediately closed my door and tore open my packs of hand warmers.
As I walked towards the stacks of rocky debris and concrete that create the ankle-breaking shoreline barriers of this isolated point, I could see at least parts of the lake had ice on it. Some sheets and broken clusters were on the shoreline. The wind was fierce though, at least 25 knots steady, making my tripod vibrate like a speaker playing Metallica. Not a soul around.
Civil twilight is approaching, and the sky is beginning to come alive. The show is about to start, and I had better find a good seat. This is where I find myself scanning the shoreline for the most interesting parts – ice sheets, formations, patterns in the surface. Then I have to climb down the concrete stacks, wary of their nicknames of Ankle Buster and Tibia Terror. I settled on a spot with some icicle formations for at least the start of the show.
The sky erupted, and I am clicking away going through a mental list of “Don’t screw this up dude.” Many people don’t realize the pace that starts now. I only have a certain amount of time, maybe 5-10 minutes, until that color is gone. That isn’t a lot of time to scramble around on ice covered, rocky concrete, to work some alternate compositions. You know, the better one is always 20 feet further down the shore.
About half way into civil twilight, I got this text from my wife. She is out walking our dog about now and also found out how windy and cold it was.
The color waned as the sun hit the horizon, a proverbial stop watch suggesting that time is almost up. The light is very different now, but not unusable. I scrambled a bit further down the shore to pick up a few last shots from my first morning of the new year.








What a wonderful picture, you absolutely have the best shots I have seen. The way you capture the light reflection on random occasions or the way you make the viewers feel so comfortable and warm when looking at your pictures are perhaps rare feelings that bloggers tend to forget to give the viewers. I enjoy scrolling down your blog and seeing all the great shots and feeling the warmth from every single shot.
Well you didn’t have to scroll down far to get to the beginning of the year Jhoselin! 🙂 I haven’t been as active on the blog as I would have liked. Again, thank you for the overly kind words.
Beautiful image.
I’m this kind of crazy as well. With my interest in ice crystals, I only go out when it’s at least in the teens, or better, single digits.
Gorgeous photos! I do have to admit that I am a total cold temperature wimp! Of course these would have been well woth braving the cold for
If you have to endure winter, then excellent pictures like these (we might call them Grafic as well as graphic) are an appropriate compensation.
I think I may have mentioned recently how much I love those ice sheets and wish I had a few near here. These are great, Mark.
To my way of thinking, civil twilight is the most exciting time of the day. Like the rebirth of Spring and the bloom of ephemerals, if that time of day lasted too long we wouldn’t appreciate it as much.
Personally, as far as your being crazy…I am the same crazy. I absolutely hate the cold but for shots like these or ice abstracts there just isn’t another time.
Thanks Steve. Dressing appropriately for the cold helps my endurance of it. Usually my hands or feet let me know when to give in. But like you mention, this is the only time of year to get this stuff, and is unique enough to draw me out.
No not crazy…perhaps addicted! I can understand after see and experiencing this harsh beauty one, especially a photographer, would want to keep going back to see if it could perhaps get even better.
Great job, Mark, and thanks for freezing your “nubbins” off so the rest of us can enjoy the beauty from the warmth of our homes. 🙂
Hmmm, thinking a nubbin warmer Google search is in order. 🙂
Oh, and these are awesome images. Well worth it!
Yep, you’re crazy! Maybe that’s what I like about you. I think some of our best images are taken when we endure the elements of nature. It wasn’t that long ago these elements of nature we consider extremes were part of the everyday life of people.
Good point Monte. We have grown a bit too comfortable perhaps. Many people live with worse conditions 24/7.
Mark! You certainly got some nice shots and, yes, the timer expires quickly when trying to catch twilight. Many people simply don’t know how quickly the light values change because, quite frankly, they’ve probably never been up at that time watching it change.
I love the text message from your wife. 🙂 She should know you by now, for sure.
Well, I think it is something more people should do. I think I hear that text remark more often than not.