The Jump – the concentration and confidence in this first picture is perfect as this boxer goes over the jump.

This next photo, the eyes are a little wider as if he is thinking, ” Oh no”,

This photo below, the eyes tell the story. 🙂 ” I don’t think I am going to make this one”, 🙂

The Jump

Have a great weekend.

Cuteness Overload

Cuteness Overload

As a morning person, I’m usually chasing first light, not the last. Sunrises feel like home to me — quiet, expectant, full of promise.

But the other evening, I chose something different. Instead of turning in early, I walked out onto a pier along the bay and waited for the sun to say goodnight.

The sky softened, the water held ribbons of gold and rose, and I was reminded that beauty isn’t reserved for the hours we’re most comfortable in.

Sometimes it’s found when we gently step outside our routine. The sunset felt like a whispered invitation — to slow down, to look up, and to remember that even endings can glow with breathtaking light.

Chasing First Light

Have a great weekend.

Beautiful Clouds

Beautiful Clouds

Have a wonderful weekend.

Today we took the backroads—our favorite way to explore when we’re out in the country. There’s something peaceful about wandering through farmland, seeing the quiet rhythm of rural life. Along the way, we came across this apple orchard, and I had to stop. I’ve never seen apple trees grown like this before—tall, thin sticks lined in perfect rows, each one loaded with bright red apples. It almost didn’t look real, more like a scene from a storybook.

Curious, I tried one of the apples… and it wasn’t very good. So now I’m not sure what variety they are or if they’re meant more for processing than eating fresh. Still, the sight of those rows upon rows of apples glowing in the afternoon light was worth the stop. Moments like this are why we love taking the long way around.

Taking the Backroads

Have a wonderful weekend.

The Doberman, who just happened to win best in show this year. Not this dog in my photos, I just finished making this portrait of this one when I saw it was announced that this breed one best in show. Beautiful dogs.

Have a great weekend.

The Doberman

Big Sable Point Lighthouse

As our travels carried us farther south along the shores of Lake Michigan, we found ourselves drawn once again by the quiet promise of another lighthouse. This time, it was Big Sable Point Lighthouse, waiting patiently at the edge of Ludington State Park.

We were camping within the park and decided, on one of our final days, to follow the trail marked for the lighthouse. What we didn’t fully grasp at first was just how much of a journey it would be. The hike stretched over two miles one way, winding through rolling sand dunes and stands of trees that seemed to hush the world around us. Each step felt intentional, the path both challenging and beautiful, inviting us to slow down and simply take it all in.

By the time Big Sable Point came into view, it felt less like a destination and more like a reward. Standing tall against the vastness of Lake Michigan, the lighthouse marked not only the end of the trail, but the closing of our time at Ludington State Park. This venture would be our last here, and it felt fitting that it led us somewhere so timeless and still.

With one lighthouse left to see along Lake Michigan, Big Sable Point became the fifteenth I have photographed—bringing me one step closer to sixteen, each one carrying its own story, its own light, and its own quiet calling.

Big Sable Point Lighthouse

Its February – Time is going so fast. I am starting the month where I left off last time. The unique landscapes around Mission point Lighthouse.

The day we got there it was raining so hard. It is like you can see forever at this point and the storm clouds made for beautiful images against the calm waters.

Such a beautiful location. Plus just because it is raining if you are visiting here, head up to the light house anyway. There were way less people and the storms move through pretty quickly.

Its February

Standing out at Mission Point Lighthouse, the landscape feels almost other-worldly. The water is unbelievably shallow for what seems like forever, revealing smooth stones and sandbars that look as if the lake has quietly pulled back its veil.

Yet just a little farther north, there’s that odd, straight line on the water where everything changes. Beyond it, the waves rise higher, rolling and breaking as if they belong to a completely different body of water.

On this side of the rock break, though—right where I took the photo—the water rests in a calm, glassy stillness. It truly feels like two worlds meeting.

What’s fascinating is that it’s likely not a tide at all. The Great Lakes don’t have true ocean tides because they’re too small to be significantly affected by the moon’s gravitational pull.

They do, however, experience something called seiches—wind-driven water sloshing that can raise or lower water levels for a short time and make it look like a tide.

Add in sandbars, man-made breaks, and sudden shifts in depth, and you’ve got these surreal patterns where one side of the lake is smooth as silk and the other is full of texture and movement.

Mission Point is one of those magical places where the lake loves to show off—and every time you visit, it tells a different story.

Standing out at Mission Point

Have a great weekend 🙂

Lower Michigan Landscapes

Lower Michigan Landscapes

Light House 13 – Point Betsie Lighthouse

Our travels brought us to the colorful and charming Point Betsie Lighthouse on the shores of Lake Michigan. Standing proudly since 1858, this lighthouse has a personality all its own—bright, welcoming, and full of history. In 2004, ownership was transferred to Benzie County, and ever since, the community has helped preserve its character and stories.

What makes Point Betsie even more unique is that it once had a bed-and-breakfast right on the property. Imagine waking up to the sound of waves and the sweep of the lighthouse beam drifting across the lake. It must have been something special.

Each lighthouse along Lake Michigan feels different, but Point Betsie has its own kind of magic—colorful, cozy, and timeless. Another little treasure tucked along the shoreline.

Light House 13

Our First Look at Lake Michigan

Short Description:
From atop the hill, we caught our very first glimpse of Lake Michigan—a shimmering stretch of blue unfolding toward the horizon. After miles of travel, the view felt like a gift, calm and inviting compared to the wild reputation of its northern sister, Lake Superior.

How much smaller is Lake Michigan than Lake Superior?
Lake Michigan is much smaller.

• Lake Superior: ~31,700 square miles
• Lake Michigan: ~22,400 square miles
  Lake Michigan is roughly 30% smaller in surface area, and Lake Superior is also deeper and holds nearly three times as much water.

Do the waves get as bad as Lake Superior?
Lake Michigan can get very rough, especially during storms, but Lake Superior is known for the worst waves on the Great Lakes. Superior’s deeper, colder water and longer fetch allow massive waves—over 20+ feet in extreme conditions.
Lake Michigan’s waves can still reach 10 to 15 feet, sometimes more during powerful storms, but they generally don’t reach the intensity or frequency of Superior’s largest waves.

When we left we drove done some backroads doing a little sight seeing and found acres of apples orchards. I have never seen apple trees shaped like this, they sure do produce plenty of apples.

Our First Look at Lake Michigan

McGulpin Point Lighthouse – This is lighthouse number 12, after crossing the 5 mile bridge we then went under it to go visit this light house on the west side of the bridge, along Lake Michigan.

This lighthouse is privately owned and they have made it into a museum. It is kept up very nicely. Lots of information of the entire area.

You can hike down the short trail to the beach where you can view the Mackinaw bridge from a different angle. It is very hard to get a five mile bridge into one photo, even from this distance and the widest angle lens I have.

Have a wonderful weekend.

When the Sun Melted Into the Lake

There are moments behind the camera when reality and imagination meet, and something inside me whispers, “Look a little closer.”
This sunset was one of those moments.

I was standing along the shore as the day softened into gold. The lake was calm, the air still, and a lone sailboat drifted quietly across the water as if it were moving through honey. The sun hung low — the exact sun you see here — glowing brighter than anything else in the world for those few last breaths of daylight.

But when I looked at it later, I didn’t just see a sun.

I saw gold.
I saw warmth spilling downward.
I saw a moment where heaven reached out and touched the water.

So I let my imagination take over — something I’ve started doing more and more when my photos spark a story. I added what I felt in my heart: the sun melting, dripping golden light into the lake like liquid fire. A surreal little daydream hidden inside a real, quiet evening.

That’s what I love about creating.
Sometimes nature gives the scene…
and imagination gives it a voice.

The other morning I looked up and saw cloud formations unlike anything I’ve ever witnessed. They curled and stretched across the sky like brushstrokes from a hand far greater than mine — almost like a portal opening into another dimension. For a moment I just stood there, quiet, humbled, and amazed.

Moments like this make me aware of how vast creation really is. We live our days on solid ground, but above us is a sky layered with wonders we rarely stop to notice. And lately I’ve been reading articles where scientists are talking about the possibility of more dimensions beyond the four we’re familiar with — length, width, height, and time. They speak of patterns in physics and tiny particles reacting in ways that hint at something more than what our eyes can see.

I don’t pretend to understand how they measure or observe those things. Science has its own language, its own tools, and its own ways of exploring the world. But when I hear them speak of “more,” my heart doesn’t run to doubt — it runs to awe. Because if anyone would craft a universe with depths beyond our understanding, it would be the One who spoke it into being.

For me, these discoveries don’t threaten my faith; they deepen it. Every new layer scientists uncover simply reminds me how much bigger God is than anything we’ve mapped or measured. The heavens still declare His glory, just as they always have. And maybe part of the beauty is that He allows us little glimpses — a strange cloud formation, a new discovery, a question that stirs inside us — just enough to spark wonder.

So when I look at these clouds, I don’t think of science versus faith. I think of how the Creator can use even a passing sky to remind us that His world is far more intricate, mysterious, and breathtaking than we can imagine.

And maybe that’s the point:
To be reminded that we are small, He is big, and every now and then He paints something in the sky just to lift our eyes upward.

Windows in the Sky

Picturesque

Picturesque

Have a wonderful weekend.

Old Mackinac Point Lighthouse where the waters meet.

There’s something timeless about the Old Mackinac Point Lighthouse. Standing at the very tip of Michigan’s lower peninsula, it has watched over the place where Lake Michigan and Lake Huron meet for more than a century. I love wandering near it in the early morning, when the water is calm and the bridge is waking up in soft light.

The lighthouse feels almost like a storyteller — its brick walls holding memories of storms, ships, fog, and the steady work of guiding travelers safely through the Straits. Even on quiet days, you can almost imagine the beam sweeping across the dark waters long ago.

Every time I photograph it, the scene feels different. Some days the sky is full of drama, other days it’s peaceful and still. But the lighthouse remains the same: strong, grounded, and full of history.

Places like this remind me how small we are in the flow of time, and yet how beautiful it is to stand where so many have stood before — looking out over the straits, listening to the wind, and capturing a moment that will never look quite the same again.

Old Mackinac Point Lighthouse

Morning Views of the Mighty Mackinac Bridge – There’s something extraordinary about standing on the south side of the water, looking out toward the Mackinac Bridge. This is the place where Lake Huron and Lake Michigan meet—two great bodies of water blending and moving as one—and each morning brings a completely different scene.

Some days the water rests in perfect stillness, barely a ripple touching the shoreline. Other mornings, a soft blanket of fog drifts across the straits, wrapping the bridge in mystery so only its towers appear, rising out of the quiet. And then there are the crisp, clear mornings when the light catches every line of steel, turning the bridge into a silhouette against the sky.

No two days ever look the same, and that’s what keeps drawing me back with my camera in hand. The straits have a way of offering something new—new light, new colors, new emotion—every single time.

The night shots are their own kind of magic. When the sun slips away and the bridge lights glow across the water, it transforms into something peaceful and powerful all at once. Those will be coming soon, and I can’t wait to share them.

Morning Views of the Mighty Mackinac Bridge

Crossing the Mackinaw Bridge – I went across this bridge a few times back when I was about 6 years old, traveling with my grandparents.

Now, 50 some years later, I finally crossed it again. Amazing how some structures can last about a life time. I don’t remember crossing the bridge at that age, my sister says we did a few times

I have to say, as an adult, I did not like crossing the bridge. I have a bit of a fear of heights these days. That bridge is a long one and you are so close to the edge of it with a short railing on each side.

After we got to the other side, I was good, we camped at a park on the south side of the bridge and this is the view the next morning at sunrise.

Crossing the Bridge Video Link Here

Crossing the Mackinaw Bridge

Have a great weekend

A Christmas Note from My Heart

As Christmas Eve is here, I just want to take a moment to thank each of you who have followed along with me through the years. Your kind words, encouragement, and shared love for the beauty around us mean more than I can say.

My world is filled with the gifts our Father has placed before us — from breathtaking landscapes to the quiet presence of little ones like this stray cat who stopped by to rest awhile. Each moment reminds me that creation is full of wonder, both great and small.

It’s my hope that through my photos, I can share a glimpse of that beauty with those who might not be able to see it for themselves — to remind us all of the grace and joy that surround us every day.

Wishing you a blessed and peaceful Christmas season, filled with warmth, love, and light.
From my heart to yours,
Sandra J

A Christmas Note from my Heart

The Ship with a Smile — Edwin H. Gott

When we visited the Soo Locks, the Edwin H. Gott was the largest ship we saw that day — a true giant of the Great Lakes. At 1,004 feet long, it moves millions of tons of iron ore each year between Lake Superior and the lower lakes.

But what caught my eye most wasn’t its size — it was its face. Through my lens, the front of the ship seemed to smile, almost as if it knew it was putting on a show for those watching along the shore. There’s something endearing about seeing such immense power softened by a touch of personality.

In that moment, the Gott wasn’t just a freighter — it was a reminder that even in industry and steel, there’s beauty and character waiting to be seen.

Ship with a Smile Video Link Here

The Ship with a Smile — Edwin H. Gott

Have a wonderful weekend.

The Parade of Lights semi show in Mackinaw City is quite an experience. We arrived just in time for the big event and found the perfect spot that evening to set up our chairs and watch as the beautiful trucks rolled by, each one glowing brightly against the night sky.

Every year, this northern Michigan tradition brings together truckers and spectators alike. The semis cross the Mackinac Bridge and follow a parade route through town, giving everyone a chance to see an incredible variety of rigs decked out in colorful lights.

This year marked a record number of entries, and each truck shone with pride. Their polished chrome reflected the brilliant lights, creating a stunning display of color and craftsmanship. It was a wonderful celebration of dedication, community, and the spirit of the open road.

If you ever get the chance to go, I highly recommend it—but don’t forget to bring some earplugs! Between the sound of those beautiful horns and the occasional Jake brake symphony, it’s a noisy (and fun) experience you won’t soon forget.

Stay tuned—I’ll be sharing more from this event soon!

Parade of Lights

Saint Marys Falls Hydropower Plant – a very interesting area if you ever get up there. Lots to see from museums to ships. We loved our tour of the area.

Tucked beside the mighty Soo Locks, the Saint Marys Falls Hydropower Plant quietly channels the force of the St. Marys River into clean energy. Built in 1902, this graceful red-brick structure is one of the oldest operating hydro plants in the United States. Its 74 turbines once powered the locks and local industries, and today it still produces electricity for the region—more than a century later.

Standing along the riverbank, you can feel the deep hum of water rushing beneath the arches, where engineering and nature meet. It’s a reminder of how innovation and the Great Lakes have long worked together to move both ships and people forward.

Saint Marys Falls Hydropower Plant