Ships and Tour Boats – It is December all ready, time goes so fast.
More boats and ships passing through the locks.
Average transit time:
Typically, it takes about 45 minutes to 1.5 hours for a ship to pass through the locks from start to finish.
Details of the process:
Ships first queue if traffic is heavy. Waiting times can be several hours to even a full day in peak shipping season.
Once in the lock chamber, the filling or emptying of water to match the upstream or downstream level takes roughly 15–20 minutes per lock.
Maneuvering in and out, securing the ship, and safety checks add additional time.
Factors affecting time:
Ship size: Larger freighters may take longer to secure.
Weather: Ice in winter or strong winds can slow operations.
Traffic volume: Summer months are the busiest, especially for iron ore and coal shipments.
So, while the actual lock passage is under 2 hours, including waiting and docking, a ship could take several hours total from approaching to leaving the locks.
Type of glass / lens The glass is part of a Fresnel lens — a multi-prism, stepped glass optic used historically in lighthouses to concentrate and project light efficiently.
I looked up information for this light glass in the photo below.
It has a weight listed as ~ 3,485 pounds
White Fish Point Museum
This museum had a lot of information and a very nice display of the interior of the light house from back in the day.
The Light Station was operated exclusively by the U.S. Lighthouse Service from 1849 until 1923, when the U.S. Coast Guard established a Lifeboat Rescue Station here.
The Lighthouse Service merged with the Coast Guard in 1939; the Coast Guard closed the Lifeboat Station in 1951, and took all personnel from the site in 1970.
he main cargoes moving through the locks are bulk commodities, mostly related to industry and raw materials. The primary cargoes include:
Iron ore – by far the largest cargo historically and currently. Mines in Minnesota’s Mesabi Range ship iron ore through the Great Lakes to steel mills in the lower lakes.
Coal – used mainly for steel production and power generation.
Limestone – used in steelmaking and construction.
Grain – such as wheat, corn, and soybeans, shipped from the Midwest to export ports.
Salt, cement, and other bulk materials – smaller in volume but still significant.
Petroleum products and chemicals – some tankers pass through, though bulk dry cargo dominates.
In modern traffic, iron ore pellets are the dominant cargo, making up most of the tonnage.
In 1913, on the Canadian side (related but somewhat different locks/canal), ~ 8,285 vessels carrying 42.7 million tons of freight passed through the Sault Ste. Marie Canal. Parks Canada
Recent / Modern Annual Traffic
About 7,000 vessels per year now transit through the U.S. Soo Locks, hauling ~ 75-90 million tons of cargo.
I think we saw 5 or 6 go through while we were here. They say Mondays are their busiest days.
Soo Locks – this was on my list to visit and we finally made it this year. First you have to pass through the security gates, as this area is along the Canada border.
Gates all along the lock area.
They made a wonderful viewing platform for visitors to watch the ships come in.
The first State Lock (on the U.S. side) was completed in 1855, to bypass the rapids of the St. Marys River.
Before that, cargo and canoes had to be carried (portaged) around the rapids by Native Americans, explorers, and early traders.
The Ohio government (Michigan) built the first lock, which was operated by the State; later, in 1881, the U.S. Government took over, and the locks became toll-free.
Over time, additional locks were added to accommodate larger vessels
First Ship View – before we head to the Soo Locks, we went down river to a little park I found on the map where the ships go by on the way to the locks.
There is a great app called Vessel Finder, that shows most all ships and boats any where you want to look. So I pulled up the app and it showed this ship was about to be at this small park.
We went down there and here it was passing by. Love this app. It usually gives the name of the ship, how big it is and where it is headed.
This one is named the Erie Trader. My neighbors brother lives on the other side of the bay right by the water. He says the earth shakes a bit when these ships go by his yard.
Sunrise on the Bay – the next morning I walk over to the water behind all the buildings. I found a quiet place where the water is calm and the sunrise is gorgeous.
It gives way to a beautiful reflection on the horizon.
Sioux Ste Marie – We are staying not far from the Soo Locks at a place called Bay Mills.
We are enjoying a few days with some friends that we camp with during the winter here at Bay Mills Campground.
This is a wonderful place to visit, especially to see the ships going through the locks. Plus more historic places here that I will show over the next couple of blog post.
Let’s start by defining what is wide angle anyway. Technically it is any lens that has a wider field of view than what the human eye sees.
What does a wide angle lens do?
Wide angle lenses distort things and enhance perspective.
What that means is that objects closer to the camera appear larger than ones farther away, even if they are the same size in reality.
When should one use a wide angle lens. Well, whenever you want to get that wow factor. I use mine for lanscapes at times.
But I love using it for animals such as the photo below.
Wide angle works great for donkeys. I just love his ears.
Where as this photo below is his normal look. Don’t forget to use your wide angle lens on your phone cameras as well. Most all phones have them. Adds a little fun to your shots.
Tahquamenon Falls – another waterfall I always wanted to see. Beautiful area, I bet the fall colors are spectacular now. We were there a few weeks ago.
The state parks are sure nice these days. They make wonderful trail systems to get to all the hot spots. Makes for easy hikes for all ages.
Ship Wrecks on Lake Superior – November is referred to as “The Month of Storms” on the Great Lakes. The storm that hit when the Fitzgerald went down was one of the biggest, and the worst that Captain McSorley said he had ever seen. In the Fitzgerald’s storm, winds as fast as 45 knots were reported, with waves as high as thirty feet.
Estimated total shipwrecks in Lake Superior: about ~550
Estimated sunk “at or near Whitefish Point” / the Shipwreck Coast:about 200–240 ships
Open lake (offshore water): usually only 45–55°F (7–13°C), even in midsummer
🌡️ Below the surface:
Just a few feet down, the temperature drops quickly — the deeper layers of Lake Superior stay around 39°F (4°C) year-round.
📍Whitefish Point area: Because it’s exposed to open, deep water and the cold upwelling currents, the surface temperature there in summer typically ranges from 45–55°F (7–13°C), rarely higher.
Light House 10 – I almost forgot about lighthouses. I am seeing a few on this trip. First one is this East Channel Light house, it is located on Grand Island and visible when you take a boat ride along Pictured Rocks.
In June 1864 and June 1866, Congress appropriated money to build one or two beacon lights at the discretion of the Secretary of the Treasury, at the entrance to Grand Island Bay and Harbor, Lake Superior.
A light or set of lights was needed to allow vessels to use Munising Harbor as a major harbor of refuge.
The Lighthouse Board spent the funds in 1868-70 building the East Channel Light and a pair of range lights on shore. The lighthouse, a wood framed keeper’s house with an attached square wooden tower operated only until 1913 when it was replaced by the new range lights installed at Munising in 1908. George Prior was working as keeper at the East Channel Light at the turn of the century and was probably the last person to serve at the post.
Restoring the Lighthouse:
Long abandoned, the lighthouse was in danger of crumbling to the ground until just a few years ago, when a group of private citizens, including the owner, decided to do something about it. They repaired its stone foundation and supported the tower and house with a series of cables. Now a much sturdier building rests on the sandy shoreline of the island.
Its deep brown foundation shows signs of the repairs, but its wood siding has not seen a trace of paint or other decoration. The wood has weathered to a dark gray and the square tower is capped with a dome of green copper roofing and exposed to the elements.
The next evening, we went to a little parking area along the shore of Lake Superior, word has it that the northern lights were going to be out that evening.
White Fish Point in the UP is where you will find Light house number 11 on my list. It also has a ship wreck museum that includes information on the Edmund Fitzgerald Ship that sunk only 17 miles from shore.
The waters are very ruff up in this area as the November winds increase. Even on the day we were there, the winds were higher than at most every other place we stopped along Lake Superior.
Most of the areas along the lake have been calm like this photo below.
Lake Superior Northern Lights – I woke up about 2 am on this particular night, or lets say morning. Husband wakes up and says, ” Do you want to go look?”
At 2 AM, tired and unsure, I almost let the moment slip away. I said yes, lets go.
The beach at Lake Superior was so calm that the water mirrored the sky, and though I couldn’t see the northern lights with my own eyes, I set up my camera anyway.
To my surprise, it revealed what I would have missed—the softest hues of pink and yellow lingering on the horizon, the last whispers of the aurora.
This once-in-a-lifetime image reminds me that sometimes the most extraordinary beauty is waiting just beyond our hesitation, if only we take that extra step to look.
Dear friends, This past month has been a very tender month. My sweet Chloee has gone on ahead, and within days, two of my camping friends said goodbye to their dogs, while a young girl I know lost her beautiful horse.
Each life so loved, each memory still warm in our hearts. I wanted to gather them here — not in sadness, but in gratitude — and share the portraits I created to honor these companions who loved us so well.
🐾 Chloee — My Faithful Girl
Chloee was more than a dog; she was a quiet presence beside me through every season of life. She had a way of knowing when I needed stillness, and her gentle eyes seemed to say everything words could not.
The house feels a little emptier without her, yet I see her everywhere — in the soft morning light, in the places she used to rest, and most of all, in my heart.
I created her portrait with love, blending moments that showed who she truly was — loyal, tender, and full of grace. This portrait is my way of saying thank you for every walk, every look, every silent comfort she gave me.
🐶 For Our Campground Friends
Not long after Chloee’s passing, two dear friends I camp with lost their own dogs — each one unique and deeply loved. We’ve spent many winters together, sharing laughter, campfires, and stories that always seemed to circle back to our dogs. When their hearts broke, I felt it too.
I created portraits for them, hoping to bring a small bit of peace — something to hold onto that says, you were loved, and you mattered. These dogs filled our campground with joy, and their memories will forever be part of those quiet mornings and starry nights we shared.
Reno, Short hair Pointer – He just got old, he passed away peacefully at his home.
Elliot, she was rescued from a bad home by my friends. She lived with them for 3 happy carefree years before crossing over the bridge. She was an older dog and needed a peaceful home in her elder years and found one. She and Reno were loved very much by so many people.
In every gentle breeze, their happy hearts still run with ours.
Bound by friendship, faith & love, they’ve gone ahead of us, to where joy never ends, and every heart is whole again.
🐴 A Girl and Her Horse
That same week, a young girl I know lost her beautiful horse. Watching her face that loss reminded me of the special bond between a person and their first great animal friend. It’s pure. It’s trusting. It’s unforgettable.
Her horse was her freedom, her joy, her companion in every sense. Her horse had an unexpected accident. It was kicked in the head by another horse out in the pasture. She instantly was paralyzed and lost her vision. I had taken photos of her horse last summer at the county fair. So I was able to make a portrait to give to her as well.
When I finished her portrait, I saw not just sorrow but strength — the kind that grows when love is real and lasting. I hope she’ll see that, too.
🌈 Closing Thoughts
Though this season brought heartache, it also reminded me that love never ends — it simply changes form.
These portraits were my way of celebrating lives that touched ours deeply.
For those of us who have loved and lost, may we find comfort in knowing their spirits live on — in our memories, our stories, and in the love we carry forward.
Upper Peninsula Michigan, continuing our trek across the UP, Pictured rock is a place I always wanted to see. We finally made it there this year. It was a beautiful day and the views are amazing. A must see if you are ever up here.
Lots of colors against the rocks where water drips down. Plus water that is just so clear and beautiful colors of turquoise and blues.
Kitch iti kipi is an Ojibwe (Anishinaabe) name that’s usually translated as “Big Cold Spring” or sometimes “Mirror of Heaven.”
We travelled to this natural springs location next on our journey through the UP of Michigan.
It refers to Michigan’s largest natural freshwater spring, located in Palms Book State Park in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula near the town of Manistique.
I look on google maps for the camera icon shown below, this helps us to find interesting landmarks and historical places to visit.
The spring is crystal clear, a 40 foot deep pool about 200 feet across. Over 10,000 gallons of water bubble up every minute from fissures in the limestone, keeping the water at a steady 45 deg F year round.
So when you hear Kitch-iti-kipi, think “the great, cold, ever-flowing spring”—a name that honors both the natural wonder and the Indigenous language of the region.
Perched where Lake Michigan meets the Bay de Noc, the 1865 Peninsula Point Lighthouse once guided schooners through treacherous waters and now serves a gentler purpose each autumn.
As summer fades, thousands of monarch butterflies funnel down the peninsula, pausing on golden sprays of wildflowers to rest and refuel.
From this quiet Michigan shore, these delicate travelers will soon embark on an astonishing 2,000-mile journey to the mountain forests of central Mexico—a migration as enduring as the little limestone light itself.
Ring Billed Gulls, gulls are everywhere. Some people don’t like them, I on the other hand do like them. They come in so many different color patterns and are easy to photograph. Mainly because they have become used to people and hang around looking for food that we leave.
But, I did find out that these birds do eat a lot of bugs, which I did not know. I watched them towards evening one night and they were picking bugs out of the air, all over the ground. I am all for that.
We are traveling the UP of Michigan right now. I am behind on my photos because there is just so much to see up here. The lake is gorgeous. We are traveling just ahead of the fall colors, I hope to get some good shots of fall for you all. But, it needs to catch up to us as we start to head south. 🙂
The UP, also known as the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, the folks are known as Yoopers. I am a yooper, even though I moved away for awhile. I was raised up here and have moved back here.
We are traveling the UP this fall, I will be sharing photos as we go. Have a great weekend. 🙂
At the last agility event I photographed, I was surprised—and delighted—to see not just one, but two Dobermans competing. It struck me because I don’t see Dobermans very often anymore. Once a familiar sight, they seem to have become less common compared to breeds like Border Collies or Aussies that dominate agility.
Dobermans have an interesting history. They were first developed in Germany in the late 1800s by Karl Friedrich Louis Dobermann, who wanted a loyal, intelligent, and protective companion for his work as a tax collector. The breed quickly became known for its sleek look, athleticism, and courage, often serving in police and military roles.
While Dobermans are still loved by many, their popularity in the U.S. has declined over the years. According to AKC rankings, they remain in the top 20–25 most popular breeds, but you don’t see them nearly as often as retrievers, shepherds, or doodle mixes. Part of it may be that people perceive them as guard dogs rather than family companions, though in reality, well-raised Dobermans are affectionate, highly trainable, and loyal to their people.
Watching those two at the agility event reminded me of how versatile this breed really is. Built for speed and focus, Dobermans can shine in sports just as much as in protective roles. It was a treat to photograph them in action—reminders of a noble breed that still has plenty to offer.
Every August, I look forward to the Perseid meteor shower. It’s a time when the night sky puts on one of its best shows, and this year I set out with my camera to capture not just the meteors, but the Milky Way stretching high above the trees.
As I reviewed my photos later, I noticed something curious. There were so many streaks across the sky—but not all of them were meteors. Thanks to some help I received recently, I learned something new: most of the long, evenly bright lines in my photos aren’t actually shooting stars at all. They’re satellites.
Here’s how you can tell the difference:
Satellites appear as long, straight streaks of light. They tend to be uniform in brightness, and many of them are nearly the same length across a long exposure. Sometimes they even show up with a faint bluish tint.
Meteors (shooting stars), on the other hand, look different. They can flare brightly for just a moment, often with a glowing head and a tail that tapers off. Their lines are not as uniform—they’re sudden, sometimes irregular, and they often stand out against the steadiness of the satellites.
Learning this changed the way I look at my night sky images. Instead of being disappointed that not every streak is a meteor, I feel even more amazed at how much is happening above us—meteors burning up in the atmosphere, satellites silently gliding in orbit, and billions of stars making up the glowing river of the Milky Way.
Standing under that sky, with my camera pointed upward, I felt small but deeply connected—reminded that every night, there’s a vast universe at work above us, whether we notice or not.
On the Road Again – Every time we start to travel again, the song, On the Road Again pops into my head. I think Willie Nelson sang it.
This is one of my favorite views as we travel north to the lake.
As you crest this hill, it almost looks as if the road is climbing straight into the water. The deep blue band on the horizon is Lake Superior, but the way it appears higher than the roadway is a trick of perspective.
The land between the hill and the lake is covered with dense forest, and from this vantage point you can’t see much of it. Because the treetops are relatively dark and flat compared to the brilliance of the open water, your eyes are drawn past them to the lake itself. The curvature of the earth and the way the horizon meets the sky add to the illusion, making the lake appear to rise up like a wall in the distance.
In reality, the lake sits much lower than the roadway—you’re just seeing the vast expanse of water meeting the horizon. It’s a reminder of just how immense Lake Superior really is: so big it looks like an ocean, and so wide that the horizon line can easily trick your eyes.
At Dixon Springs State Park, the American beech trees stand like ancient guardians of the forest. Their smooth gray trunks rise tall, but it is their roots that stop me in my tracks. Instead of remaining hidden beneath the soil, they sprawl across the ground, immense and powerful, gripping the earth as though holding on for centuries.
These roots tell a quiet story of survival. Beech trees grow with wide, shallow roots, spreading outward instead of digging deep. In the thin soils of this rocky landscape, erosion slowly pulls the ground away, leaving their anchor system exposed. What might seem like vulnerability is instead a display of resilience: roots transformed into sculpture, strength revealed rather than concealed.
And yet, even in their strength, these roots create space for tenderness. In the grooves and hollows between them, small flowers push through—violets, spring beauties, tiny blooms brimming with color against the gray bark. The tree’s great foundation becomes a shelter, a cradle for new life. Mosses creep in, insects find refuge, salamanders slip into damp pockets. Life gathers at the feet of the beech, nourished by its presence.
There is a lesson here. We often think of roots as hidden things, unseen but essential. Yet the beech reminds us that what is exposed—our struggles, our scars, our grip against the shifting ground—can be just as vital. In showing their roots, these trees reveal not weakness but strength, not barrenness but abundance.
The next time you walk beneath their branches, pause to look down. You may find yourself staring at more than a root system—you may see a living testament to endurance, shelter, and the surprising beauty of resilience.
Perseid Meteor Shower, well, not many shooting stars. Still to bright out with the full moon every night this week that I took these photos. Barely see the milky way.
Did one star trails combo facing the camera north. That is always fun to do. Making a circle out of the stars movement after you stack them. This one took 237 photos to make this one shot. I took them with my little go pro camera. Just put it on a tripod, turn it on and go back to bed. 🙂
