As my finger traced across the map following the shoreline, I tried to visualize the places as their names echoed in my mind. There were lots of green and what seemed like an eternity of water nearly surrounding an isolated peninsula. It looked like a place that could be called home.

 At the time, the Colorado high country was where my snowshoes hung and even though I loved the mountains, water was calling me. Growing up in southeastern coastal North Carolina, most days possible were spent fishing, sailing and surfing. I wanted to get back to the water. However, it wasnít the Atlantic calling, it was Lake Superior. So, in true vagabond fashion, I grabbed my old camera, loaded my van and headed for an inland sea.

Like most amateur photographers, I wanted to document  the beautiful places that saw the soles of my boots.  Iím not exactly sure when I started to get serious about photography. Being entirely self taught was certainly the long way around, but I believe the unhurried time spent learning allowed me to develop a unique style. I concentrate on light, texture & color as well as the juxtaposition of all three, rather than simply finding a subject to photograph.  Although I'm called an 'artist', I feel that nature is the artist & that I simply interpret it's beauty. This respect for the natural world reflects my deep-rooted affection for the land which hopefully is evident in the images I capture on film.

I have been photographing the Upper Peninsula for about twelve years now, and have been sharing some of those images with you at galleries, art shows and exhibitions. During that time quite a few folks have asked when I would put a collection my work together in book form. Itís taken a while, but here it is.

Although I have lots of wonderful images from the whole lake Superior basin, I chose to focus on my home- the U.P. Rather than show images of more notable and easily accessible features, I chose images that remind us of the whole, such as a loon wailing in the distance, a summer shower, a storm rolling across the big lake or the quiet of a winter wood. I hope to leave you with a feeling, somewhat intangible, but forming an impression all the sameÖ like a fleeting chickadee on film. 

My hope is that your journey through these images will allow you to feel what I have felt when hiking, paddling or sitting on a sunny outcropping Ė a sense of wonderment and a spirit of place.

As usual, my camera will continue to tag along on trips to places on the map that drew my finger to them years ago, which I now no longer have to visualize.