I shot this family, you can just make out the boy on the mom’s lap, earlier today.
I’m OK. I’m in the strengthening part of Physical Therapy post surgical repair for the torn rotator cuff. The right foot is healing as could be expected. Surgery on the left in a week. There are future plans for therapy on the feet to improve walking but the shoulder is repaired so I have already used it a little to roll the chair. So I got that going for me, which is nice.
Surgeons, bills, lawyers…I’m still shooting, not as much (eyes), sailing, not as much, sailing in any kind of higher wind wreaks havoc on injuries, not in a fun way. I haven’t bicycled or swam, I was surprised to find I could not swim. I sink without the shoulder. It’s good information to have; the knowledge you now sink. I wear the lifejacket onboard if the winds go above 10. I haven’t biked due to shoulder and horrible balance from the feet injury. I haven’t surfed..shoulder and feet, haven’t kayaked…shoulder and feet.
The only way out is through it. And so I go.
It will be celebrated…with pomp and parade…bonfires and illuminations from one end of this continent to the other.*
My grand niece celebrates with sparklers in an Iowa cornfield.
* John Adams, sage Founding Father, predicts how Americans will yearly celebrate the birth of our nation, some 240 years later we see he was right.
After observing the swing of the shadow over the sands I planned this shot. First year I tried there was not enough beach so I waited a year. I came in 45 minutes early for duty so I could catch that perfect instant. You can’t get this shot now because Lake Michigan is at record levels and the Lake is up against the rip rap at the base of the tower.
The Wiki for Little Sable Point Lighthouse: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Little_Sable_Point_Light
Do a search and you will find a lot of information about the light as well as rentals and restaurants in the area.
This shot is from sunset, July 24, 2010. A group of us sea kayakers had launched from Rockport launch, north of Alpena, Michigan. We usually camp on islands, all gear to be carried in your hatches, but this time we stayed in the old foghorn building, made over into a lodge, close to the original keepers quarters. All, lighthouse, keepers quarters and outbuildings, were under renovation. At the time the foghorn building was the only place with rooms to let. Almost 10 years later I’ll bet most of the restoration is done. It was a sweet place to stay.
I was walking the path to the lighthouse and looked up as the last rays of the setting sun filled her lantern room.
Below is the lighthouse seen the next morning. I was sitting on the keepers’ porch looking over to the light as the sun was rising over a clouded Huron. That is a Petosky stone on the ledge. I can’t not pick up rocks.
It was a lovely island, we looked for rocks, walked the paths, paddled the circumference of the island and took photos of wildflowers. The best part of the trip was paddling around the island, chasing the back end of a storm over Huron. You could see for miles, you could see where the storm was sweeping the Lake and you could see that warm, dreamy late afternoon post-storm light bundled up with a rainbow. That storm was the impetus to buy a waterproof camera.
Hush. Ten years ago, before filters and for that matter most social media, I was playing with masks in Photoshop. I have no clue where the originals are.
A quick search reveals you can still visit:
Wow, it looks like the Keepers Quarters are nearing finish. I believe the plan was to turn it into a bed and breakfast.
I love Huron. Every visit/paddle/sail has been sweet. It is far less commercial than West Michigan.
Me? I am halfway through surgeries. It’s race night and I can’t get these feet in proper shoes for being on a boat. Barefoot is not an option. Post operative clogs would be pretty stupid. Maybe in a few weeks.
I truly believed 2018 was going to be my Annus Horribiles. Apparently it’s not done with me.
I apologize for quietly withdrawing when things get tough. I worked hard to overcome physical handicaps and then get broadsided by other ailments.
Surgery today to repair a shoulder. I will need that shoulder because..well..wheelchair. It’s coming back into my life. I am lucky, very lucky. I worked hard to make a lot of that luck.
This is me after my first brain surgery:
I’ve had a second. This summer is about ‘breaking and rebuilding’ my feet. That’s why I need the shoulder, to roll the chair.
I just haven’t been able to face things with a proper frame of mind. It’s time to focus inward.
Friends and family lining up for Port St. Joe Florida’s Mardi Gras (2018):
I LOVE this family of girls and proud Papa.
Below, she’s working a Mae West vibe here, isn’t she? It’s great!
Organising and visiting:
On Main Street the beads and candy fly:
Here’s that family of girls again:
This was the best day. I’m a northerner and I’d never seen how the south does Mardi Gras. I LOVED it. We went bar hopping after the family friendly parade. It was marvelous and a year later these photos still bring me joy. I hope they brighten your day.
I’ve had a lovely five weeks on a Barrier Island with little to very low bandwidth. It has been fairly laid back; the zen of being on an island in the off season.
One of the things I like about ‘Old Florida’ are the singular beach huts that abounded along old tourist trails. Disney copies this look but the soul is missing for there is nothing like an original from the glory days of road trips and tourist traps.
This is Pam’s paradise, her store, the Beach Trader. She has added on to this shop over the years and over time regulars have returned to gift her with singular works of art ranging from portraits to metal works. Below is the owner, Pam, next to a cherished gift from a regular customer.
She used to live in her old tricked out airstream but following Hurricane Michael has downsized inventory, moved in to the back room of the shop and plans to rent out the airstream. She is a short block from the bay and should easily find guests.
I love her shell gardens. The more you stand and look the more tropical sea trinkets you see.
Inside is everything your inner beach-going child could possibly need. It’s all there, right next to ‘outsider art’ made by locals.
You can find Pam’s singularly marvelous slice of Paradise just west of Carrabelle on Highway 98 in Florida’s ‘Forgotten Coast’. Hurry. This ‘old Florida’ is rapidly giving way to condos, high-rises and Disneyfication.
We American’s love our parades. It is tradition for the people in a parade unit, whether float, or horses, to throw candy to children along the parade route. Below are children and adults attending to their candy bags.
That candy was wet.
I disapprove of filters. I don’t use them but I sometimes do push levels for effect:
If you celebrate Christmas, please, may have you have a blessed Christmas Eve.
Below, the Cub Scouts of Pack 3165 wait for their turn to parade and above you see them with their appreciative audience.
I have no idea who these guys are but I like their simple float.
Another view of the soggy parade with Jack Skellington and his Christmas Town float: