THE WATER
Water is one of the elements I return to again and again. It shapes the landscape, reflects the changing sky, carries light, weather, and seasons, and gives life to nearly everything around it. There is something magnetic about water—the movement of a river, the stillness of a wilderness lake, or the seemingly endless horizon of Lake Superior. This collection brings together some of the moments when I’ve been most drawn to it, exploring water not simply as part of the landscape, but as one of the elements I appreciate most within it.
GHOST ON THE ROCK
The night presses close along the Lake Superior shore—cold, heavy, and alive. The waves move like ghosts over the stones, dissolving and reforming in the dim light. Out on the water, nothing is certain; shapes rise and fade, and the wind carries a sound that feels older than language. The rocks stand like sentinels, their dark outlines fixed against the shifting mist. Here, the world feels paused—caught between the seen and the unseen, where even the moonlight seems unsure of its place.
Signed and numbered,Limited to 50 prints. No frame / Print only
GLASS ON gaskin
There is a brief stretch of time after the sun disappears when the Boundary Waters seems to hold onto the day. On Gaskin Lake, the wind had fallen away and the surface had become almost perfectly still. Along the horizon, the last light remained—a thin band of orange separating the darkening forest from the approaching night. The rocks were motionless. The lake was nearly motionless. But over the course of a long exposure, the water became something else entirely. Small ripples and movements that would normally catch the eye disappeared into the exposure, leaving behind a smooth, ghostlike surface. The water seemed less like water and more like glass, with the rocks emerging from it as though suspended between the lake and the sky.
This is one of my favorite times to photograph the Boundary Waters. The dramatic light of sunset has already passed, the colors have begun to fade, and the landscape settles into a quieter version of itself. For a few minutes, there is no real distinction between the end of one day and the beginning of another.
Signed and numbered,Limited to 50 prints. No frame / Print only
PRESQUE RIVER
The Presque Isle River makes its final descent through the western edge of Porcupine Mountains Wilderness State Park, tumbling through a series of falls, cascades, narrow channels, and ancient bedrock before finally emptying into Lake Superior. In this long exposure, the river’s movement is softened, revealing the shape and direction of the water as it works its way toward the lake. The Presque Isle corridor is surrounded by old-growth sugar maple, hemlock, and white pine, and contains some of the park’s most dramatic waterfalls, including Nawadaha, Manido, and Manabezho Falls. (Michigan)
The Porcupine Mountains have become one of my favorite places in the Northwoods—a wilderness that still feels strangely overlooked considering what survives here. Within the park is roughly 35,000 acres of old-growth forest, part of what the Michigan DNR describes as the largest relatively undisturbed northern hemlock-hardwood forest west of the Adirondacks. (Michigan) There is a wildness here that feels different from much of the Great Lakes region: old forest, dark rivers, exposed rock, waterfalls, and the immense presence of Lake Superior. Following the Presque Isle downstream, it feels as though all of those pieces of the landscape eventually converge, carried by the river toward the lake.
Signed and numbered,Limited to 50 prints. No frame / Print only
BURNING SKY
A summer storm moves across the dark expanse of Lake Superior, illuminating the horizon with distant flashes of lightning. This photograph is composed of sixty 30-second exposures captured through the night as the storm system passed across the field of my camera. Layered together, those individual moments reveal the movement of the storm and the scattered electrical bursts that appeared and disappeared over the lake—compressing nearly half an hour of changing weather into a single frame.
Signed and numbered,Limited to 50 prints. No frame / Print only
WHISPER ON STONE
Under the weight of the moon, Artist Point drifts somewhere between dream and memory. The waves move like whispers across the stone—slow, deliberate, ancient. Stars struggle faintly against the light, their shimmer softened by the lake’s calm breath. This is Superior in her quietest form—neither night nor day, but something sacred in between. Every ripple feels like a secret, every reflection a reminder that even the strongest shores know how to be still.
Signed and numbered,Limited to 50 prints. No frame / Print only
cross river
Long before a canoe ever slipped across these waters, before trails were worn by voyageurs or footsteps echoed through the pines, this river was already carving its path through ancient stone. The bedrock surrounding the Cross River is part of the Canadian Shield, some of the oldest exposed rock on Earth, shaped by volcanic forces nearly two billion years ago and later sculpted by immense glaciers that retreated only about 17,000 years ago. The rushing water that tumbles through its narrows today is part of a story written across incomprehensible spans of time.
For centuries, Indigenous travelers moved through this country, following waterways that served as the original roads of the North. Later, French-Canadian voyageurs carried furs, supplies, news, and stories through the same interconnected network of rivers and lakes. Generations came and went, while the water continued moving over the same stone. That sense of permanence and motion is what drew me to this scene. Using a long exposure, the individual currents disappear into something softer and almost timeless. The rocks remain fixed while the river becomes a continuous ribbon, blurring one moment into the next. Standing beside the Cross River, it is difficult not to think about everything that has passed through this place—the glaciers, the travelers, the seasons, and the years.
Signed and numbered,Limited to 50 prints. No frame / Print only
MIDNIGHT CURRENT
Lake Superior wears its darkness well. The waves move like spirits here—slow, whispering, half-formed beneath the pull of the moon. The cliffs stand unmoved, but not untouched; centuries of storm and silence have carved their faces into something almost alive. In the long exposure, the water becomes mist, the mist becomes memory. It’s hard to tell where the stone ends and the night begins. This is Superior’s truest face—ancient, haunted, and impossibly still beneath the endless breath of the lake.
Signed and numbered,Limited to 50 prints. No frame / Print only