Everyday Adventure
I broke free from cabin fever today and spontaneously decided to visit Sterling State Park.
I had a chat with my Dad before heading out. A photo of him, sitting on a jeep in Vietnam in 1966, is nested among my cameras and lenses. I proudly announce I’m heading out for an adventure, an attitude towards life my Dad embraced and tried to instill in me.
I doubt I’ll find anything photo-worthy today, but I push my attitude about the dreary Michigan landscape aside for this outing, and embrace a sense of adventure instead. In doing so, it seems I inadvertently brought my Dad along with me.
There are a lot of people at the park today, more than you would typically see outside this time of year. Couples and groups, walking and talking, heads bobbing on the trails. Dogs walk briskly with their human companions, noses up to the air, happy to be outside in the sunshine on this unseasonably warm day. Clearly, I’m not the only one eager to escape the grip of cabin fever today.
Since it’s my first time, I take a quick lap around the main road. I’ve got a mean case of plantar fasciitis, so I’ve got to limit the amount of time I spend walking. I want to find something to shoot today, and also get some ideas for future visits.
I check in with my Dad as I drive around taking it all in. He frequently talked about reconnaissance work during his Army life, and I feel like we are doing some recon together now, getting a lay of the land, the key features, the entryways and exits, the general flow and energy of this place.
This is one of those times when I wish my Dad was here, and suddenly realize that he is.
I am drawn to the gulls who are having a blast dive bombing the lagoons. The aerobatics alternate between swooping and coasting in the air before plummeting to the water, which is still partially frozen. I park near a gull hotspot and find a front row seat on a bank of large rocks that line the lagoon.
I let myself get into the groove with the gulls as they zip all around me. Once I’m in sync with their energy, I start shooting. I let go of any concerns about outcomes and just enjoy the process and the unsinkable spirit of the birds.
I turn my focus on a bird who is breaking up a section of ice on the lagoon. He flies away with a piece of ice in his beak and returns seconds later to snatch another piece of ice. He continues to pull pieces of ice away, one by one, until an opening big enough for fishing is created. It is a lesson in persistence.
If anyone is going to be successful, it’s this plucky little bird. I keep my camera focused on him, and capture him claiming his prize from the ice covered lagoon. I thank him for the lesson and photo and head back to my truck.
I feel energized by this unplanned adventure and recharged by my time in the sun. I’m solar-powered, and the dim days of winter really drain my battery. I needed this time in the sun today and the reward I got for walking away from my routine into the unknown.
I return home, put my gear away, and look at the photo of my Dad. That was fun, I said. And I knew he had fun too, watching me embrace the sense of adventure he modeled for me in life.
Reflecting on the day, I realize that every moment holds the potential for adventure. Every day holds the energy of a fresh start. It just needs to be activated and brought to life.
