McCarty Cove
People often ask why I photograph sunrises instead of sunsets. The answer, at first, was simple: COVID happened. The world changed overnight. People became isolated, uncertain, and afraid. During that time, I was fortunate to live just eight minutes from Lake Superior, that magnificent body of water that has always been both humbling and healing. On March 18, 2020, I began what I didn’t know then would become a daily ritual. Each morning, my Maltese, Bella, and I would drive to the lake to watch the sunrise. It was early enough that the world was still quiet—no crowds, no noise, just the rhythmic sound of the waves and the slow awakening of light.
Those mornings became a lifeline. While others began or ended their day in solitude, I began mine with purpose. I wasn’t just photographing the sunrise—I was witnessing rebirth, hope, and the quiet persistence of beauty in a time of chaos. Sunrise felt like a promise, one that whispered, “The light will return.”
But there is a deeper reason too. For two years before the pandemic, I had gone to daily Mass. Each morning, I would begin the day in prayer and reflection. When COVID closed the churches, I didn’t stop worshiping; I simply changed where I worshiped. The shoreline of Lake Superior became my sanctuary, the horizon my altar, and the sound of waves my hymns. The Ojibwe, the Anishinaabe people, called this sacred body of water Gichigami—the “Great Sea” or “Big Water.” Standing there at dawn, I could feel what they must have known for generations: this was a place of spirit.
At sunrise, I commune with more than the natural world—I commune with the unseen. I imagine the spirits that dwell along these shores, the souls who once prayed, traveled, and loved here. There is peace in that connection, a reminder that we are never truly alone.
What began as a way to escape isolation has become a sacred practice of gratitude and reflection. Each photograph is a prayer of its own—a visual meditation on resilience, renewal, and the divine beauty that greets us when we choose to rise and meet the light.