Sunrise from Whitefish Point, Paradise, MI

Sunrise No. 359 of 1,600+

  • Sunrise time: 8:25
  • Azimuth: 124°
  • Did the sun rise: Yes
  • Was the sun visible: Negative


  • Felt like: 27 ºF
  • Humidity: 95%
  • Wind: 7 mph
  • Wind gust: 8 mph


  • 17mm
  • f/5.0
  • 1/80 sec
  • 640


Whitefish Point, Paradise, MI

117.1 mile commute

📍 46° 46' 9" N, -84° 57' 4" W

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Musings [399 words]

It’s the most wonderful time of the year, for some people. For those people, it’s difficult to believe that it’s the least wonderful time of the year for others. That’s the camp I’ve been in the last few years.

I’ve never watched a sunrise on Christmas Day, at least its very unlikely. Of coures, the same can be said for almost any other day this year.

Today’s gift was to make it a day for myself. A free day where nobody is calling, the shop is closed, I can’t even go to a coffee shop and edit photos. With a 5AM alarm I made it to Whitefish Point a little before 8AM. It was my first time returning since January 1, when this project began. My sentimental ass makes a big deal out that sorta thing.

It’s view was quite different than 358 days ago. Probably 40º warmer. No glimmer of sunshine in light. A freighter passed in the distance and faded into the fog before I could take a desireable photo of it. If that first sunrise wasn’t so magical 358 days ago, would this project have come to fruition?

For some reason the point seemed so much larger, the beach seemed to go on and on. Again, with the sentimentality, I was tickled to recognize some of the exact drift wood, still in place buried deep in the sand. How did all that drift wood get there?

A long drive with podcasts. A little music. I maybe passed two cars all morning. A stop at Tahquamenon Falls is a must if you’re all the way out there. There was one other car in the parking lot with a Missouri pltae, driven by two 20-something girls with their little dog. I said an awkward Good morning.

The roads were icy. The fog was thick. It was magical and scenic the entire way.

What I kept coming back to, those 358 days ago, is trying to figure how just when and where did this idea of photographing every sunrise come from? It’s less about discovering that origin story, and more about can I recreate that vision and idea for a daily project in 2020? The Year of Hindsight is still seven days away. Maybe I’ll figure it out then, driving alone to some other Great Lakes destination.

I can now say I’ve watched the sunrise every Wednesday of 2019.


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