Sunrise from Shiras Park, Marquette, MI

Sunrise No. 365 of 1,600+

  • Sunrise time: 8:33
  • Azimuth: 124°
  • Did the sun rise: Yes
  • Was the sun visible: Nope


  • Felt like: 13 ºF
  • Air Temp: 23 ºF
  • Humidity: 87%
  • Wind: 9 mph
  • Wind gust: 15 mph


  • 30mm
  • f/13.0
  • 1.3 sec
  • 125


Shiras Park, Marquette, MI

1.0 mile commute

📍 46° 33' 17" N, -87° 22' 57" W

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Musings [778 words]

Again, to quote Kurt “Mountain Man” Steiner…

“How does it feel when you say you’re going to do something, and then you do it?”

Like the Upper Peninsula and plaid and Richard Branson and squirrels, the sunrise will likely now become a part of my identity, in a way that is out of my control. In a way that every Christmas and birthday brings a plethora of plaid gifts, I can only assume the future will hold many sunrise references.

All said and done, I’ve still never watched a sunrise on February 29. Sixty days to go.

Good news, I have a pretty good feeling the sun is going to rise again tomorrow. After one trillion six hundred fifty-eight billion one hundred ninety-five million days, it hasn’t failed once. See you out there.

When you complete on New Year’s resolution, you are free of any obligation to set one for the next year.

For the first time this year I have the feeling of zero obligations tomorrow. Of course, these entire project has been an obligaton I’ve put on myself, I could walk away at anytime. But that’s a resolutoin, that’s a commitment, that is an obligation to self.

It’s been a busy year, a successful year, and a stressful year. It’s been an especially busy Fall Gauntlet, as I refer to it now. It kicks off with 906 Day, then Plaidurday, and Fresh Coast Film Fest, followed by the craziness at the shop which is the holiday season, and then all the holidays themselves.

There have been times, say the day after Fresh Coast, where I felt so much relief that for once I had nothing to do tomorrow. But there was still a sunrise to photograph, still a commitment to myself that needed follow through daily. After an especially tough period, grief, heartache, a [REDACTED], it was especially difficult to have to worry about an alarm, find a location, figure out what and where and how the next sunrise was happening.

Today, that is gone.

What’s been the most surrel today has been turning off my alarm clock and feeling, that’s it, I don’t have to set it tonight for any other reason than my own desire.

It was odd having 50 people join me at sunrise, but it was a wonderful ending and I loved it so, but for a project that was spent in great solitude, it certainly felt different. I was the last one there and took a few moments to sit alone, no cameras, and just look at Superior. Oddly, it felt like the passing of a loved one, or saying goodbye to someone you love and not knowing if and when you’ll see them again. Even though the sun will rise tomororw, and Superior will still be there, it was a passing of something. Superior can’t speak, and if she could, I think we shared a moment, a tipping of the hat to each other.

As I got in my car, that was the most emotional part of the day. Again, oddly, it felt like I was off to my first year at college or something like that. I got choked up, and there were a few tears. I wanted to thank someone for an incredible year and experience. But who? I thanked the sun and the lake.

Off to The Crib for a mimosa and some visiting with friends. Then off to the shop to edit photos one last time this year. As I polished up this very website, I committed my changes via GIT. And then I sat and time seemed to slow. I hovered over and off of the PUSH button in Atom multiple times. And in some ways that was just as monumental and emotional as sitting on that tire on the playground in solitude looking over the lake. That click of button is what finalize to the world that this project was complete, that now everyone could see all 365 photos.

And now, there is unease in not knowing what’s next. But I want to be there with that feeling, and present in this moment. And I’m incredibly happy to be exactly where I am at this exact moment.

Most of the sunrises we experiences are in happenstance, something we witness by chance on our commutes to work, from the kitchen window, or even creeping through the curtains as we wake up. Be deliberate in seeking nature and make the sunrise the destination.

For those who have followed this project, if there is a single takeaway I hope it is this: That you deliberately watch more sunrises in 2020 than you did in 2019.

Carpe mane.


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