Terry and I recently had a photo shoot in the whimsical forests of northern Michigan, where trees are at once alive and dead, and you are lucky to catch a glimpse of the animals as they pop up from the ground and scurry about. We could hear almost nothing, except a woodpecker in the distance, and the occasional burst of loud wind rushing through the trees. It was mostly overcast and dreary, but the sun still shined at moments. We shot in a few areas that we thought were the most interesting and tried to capture something subtly profound. The complete photo session is available to members of Liz LaPoint.com. Check it out :-)
We also visited a small town named Goodhart, right off Lake Michigan, where you drive down winding dirt roads among the forest to reach the lake homes. There was a tiny, old, one-room church with an accompanying cemetery. It looked abandoned, since we were there on a Sunday morning and there was not a soul in sight. We eagerly bounced out of the car to shoot in front of it all, when we were suddenly amidst an enormous swarm of little black bugs. We didn't realize they were literally everywhere, so we tried to move on and locate a new spot, but alas, the bugs won that war and we had to give up. There were so many of them, we couldn't open our mouths or we would have been eating bugs for brunch.
It wasn't until later that day that we discovered that the quaint little vacation town of Goodhart was home to a vicious murder of an entire family. It happened in the late '60s, when a family was in town from Detroit to spend the summer at their lake house. It is still considered unsolved.