Following the Voice - Roll 122

Every year, towards the end of October, I find myself getting fidgety and anxious in the lab. Little things annoy me, and I have a hard time focusing on the tasks I need to accomplish. I attribute this to both the increased workload I have during the fall semester and the fact that as the weather gets cooler I spend less time outdoors, where I feel truly at peace. The solution I have employed for four years has been to spend an evening at Weko Beach, my favorite Lake Michigan park, where I can spend time in nature, resetting my burnt-out energy and communing with God in the woods and the dunes. Every year I have taken various photos with my phone, but that October I brought all the equipment needed to intentionally make images, my goal being to convey the peace and pervading spirituality that I soak in every time I visit.

I began my journey that evening by following the path I had taken in 2022, walking up a steep set of steps to the highest point on the dunes overlooking the main area, then coming back down on the other side to the campground nestled in the woods below. I took several photos here, enjoying the fall colors and the bits of sunlight that fell through the trees, but I wasn't necessarily connecting with my surroundings in a deep way; I was just taking photos to take photos. That's not always a bad thing, and some of my greatest shots have been taken when I was just kind of looking around. But I wanted something better, and so I began to walk out of the campground, planning to head to the beach itself. After a couple steps, however, I noticed a line of leaves cutting through the gravel road, and I was inexplicably compelled by this sight, almost as if a Voice in my head was telling me "take this photo." Besides the fact that I'm always happy to try out something different, I'm not inclined to ignore direct commands when I receive them, so I set up the tripod again, composing my frame carefully and taking this photo, which at first glance seems to be a photo of nothing. The more I look at it, though, the more details reveal themselves to me; the different angles of the dunes play off of the lines of leaves I noticed initially, while the golden light in the background contrasts beautifully with the darker foreground. In retrospect I can see why I was told to make this image—just as there is beauty waiting to be perceived in this entirely normal scene, so too is there a spiritual undercurrent to our lives, waiting out of sight but able to be found when we look for it. I am humbled that I was chosen to see this photo and experience that special moment of inspiration, and I felt full of energy as I left the campground and headed to the next spot to shoot.

Weko Beach Campground, Weko Beach, Bridgman, Michigan.

There is a stream, sometimes just big enough to be a creek and other times so deep and wide as to almost be a river, that winds its way through the dunes from the town of Bridgman all the way to the lake, cutting through Weko Beach on its way. The height of my spiritual practice on these evenings has been to head into the woods, find this stream, and wade through it until I arrive at the shore and step into the comparatively warmer water of Lake Michigan. I don't know why I started doing this, other than that I enjoy the feeling of wading through water and mud, but I have found that I feel most connected to God in this way, my feet firmly planted in the natural world and my senses attuned to whatever Presence I may perceive. I firmly believe that God makes himself to known to individuals in the way that they seek him, and this is my way of doing that, looking for the One who not only created everything I see but also my desire to photograph it! So, like in past years, I climbed the dunes again, finding the stream and beginning my pilgrimage to the lake, this time comically carrying my camera and tripod on my shoulders as I went. Once more I basked in my environment, breathing in the fresh air and feeling the cold water beneath my feet, but I didn't feel the need to take any photos with my film camera until I reached the deepest point in the water, almost at the end of my journey. In that moment I looked over to one side of the stream, seeing a pattern of leaves, sand, and tree roots on the bank, and for a second time that evening I heard the Voice say "take this photo." Setting up my tripod in the midst of the water was a fun challenge (I got to channel my inner Clyde Butcher!) but I managed to get everything composed the way I saw it, taking a photo that even now speaks powerfully to me. The varied textures of the different elements form an interesting canvas, and the colors fall into place harmoniously, with red, blue, and yellow spread throughout the frame. One of my favorite details is how black the water is, a dark foundation out of which arises the bulk of sand and plants. This is a more perfect photo than I can ask for, and I know that in that moment, as before, I became a vessel for something beyond myself, something almost beyond my understanding. I know, objectively, that there are reasons why I was able to see these photos at that time and not previously; I had spent three years learning more and more about this location, while at the same time growing my skills as a photographer. Even with this in mind, though, I am certain of the Voice and of the Call, and I feel blessed that I was able to answer them, capturing the spirit of Weko Beach during that fall evening. With all the craziness and creative energy of that week, it was nice to be reminded that as I try to portray the Ordered World in my work, I am answering the call of divine Presence, underpinning everything that I do and giving meaning to it!

Weko Beach, Bridgman, Michigan.