Megan + Donovan - An Exquisite Evening Wedding at Historic Bowers Harbor Inn, Mission Table - 9/9/23

In 2016, Megan and Donovan were strangers attending different colleges on opposite sides of Michigan. Summer break brought them both to Clarkston, MI, and the same local country club, where they took seasonal jobs at Oakhurst Country Club. During a staff training, Megan caught her first sight of Donovan, and was smitten. Acting in stark contrast to her usual shy demeanor, Megan approached him and offered to cover his shift. They exchanged numbers, which opened the door for conversation to continue. It wasn’t long before they began spending time together outside of shifts. It was a summer romance that swept them both up in its warm embrace.

Life would take them both in different directions over the four years that followed. Both of them continued to date other people, but every relationship lacked that perfect connection they had felt with each other. One night, Megan recalls scrolling Hinge to give the dating app one last shot. Donovan’s name popped up.
”He had been on my mind a lot lately, so I took it as a sign”, she remembers. Two minutes after her right swipe, both of them sent the same message at the same instant - “I still love you”. The very next night, Donovan made a dinner of “Marry Me Chicken” for the girl who almost got away. He texted his mom to let her know that Megan was coming over, and that his plan was to propose in just 6 month’s time.

July 4th rolled around - the same date on which they shared their first kiss four years earlier. In their back yard with their pup Stella happily observing, Donovan made good on his plan and put a ring on Megan’s finger.

The two lovers chose to celebrate their wedding with a small group of their closest friends and family, at Traverse City’s Historic Bowers Harbor Inn. The ceremony took place on the property’s rolling great lawn, overlooking the calm waters of Grand Traverse Bay. The celebrations continued into the evening with a merry candlelight dinner in the Inn’s front room.


Brittany + Donald - A Beautiful Beach Wedding at Grand Traverse Resort & Spa, 6/18/23

On a warm summer evening in 2019, Brittany and Donald were introduced by mutual friends over what seemed to be a casual dinner like any other.

Unbeknownst to the two of them, this meeting was far from coincidental. Having discussed their plans at length, these mutual friends had decided that the two would be a perfect match for each other.

Though native to the state of Michigan, Donald was living in LA at the time, visiting home to be with friends and family. As dinner came to a close that night, he mused out loud what a shame it was that Brittany didn’t live in LA. The two had quickly hit it off, with Brittany enjoying Donald’s easy personality and lively conversation. The two exchanged socials and contact info before parting ways that evening, resigned that the 2,000 miles between them meant they might not meet again.

Fast forward to November. The two had lost touch since their meeting. Donald was tagged in a post on Facebook that Brittany commented on, which prompted Donald to send her a text. They continued talking after that, deciding to meet up over the holidays the next month. Sparks flew. Brittany made the trek to LA from Michigan to visit Donald in January, and they took turns visiting one another each few weeks during the next couple of months. March of 2020, during the last half of a visit to LA to meet Donald’s family, the rise in Covid cases was causing widespread alarm, and lockdowns began. Rather than be separated, Donald and Brittany decided to “flatten the curve” together in Michigan for the next two weeks. Two weeks turned into several months, and the two lived together in Brittany’s Michigan bungalow until June. At that time, Brittany downsized her possessions to 2 suitcases worth of things, and relocated to LA with Donald. After three years together, Donald proposed. 6 months into their engagement, they both decided to bypass the big wedding in favor of an intimate beach celebration. In just 30 days, they planned and coordinated the whole celebration exactly as they had hoped.

With Northern Michigan holding a special place in both their hearts, it was their first choice for location. They found their perfect venue at Grand Traverse Resort’s Beach Club. With a picturesque views of East Grand Traverse Bay, Brittany and Donald exchanged vows under the summer sky on June 18th, 2023.

Middle Earth Meets Northern Michigan

“He told them tales of bees and flowers, the ways of trees, and the strange creatures of the Forest, about the evil things and the good things, things friendly and things unfriendly, cruel things and kind things, and secrets hidden under brambles.”

— J. R. R. Tolkien

When West-Coast lifer Mecauley contacted my earlier this year, she spoke of her fascination with forests and their mythical nature, which resonated deeply with me. She explained that she and her fiancé Josh were planning a visit to Michigan from California during autumn. Then she told me something that had me simultaneously shocked and heartbroken: "Living in California my whole life, I've never NOT been in a drought or fire. I’ve never even seen a forest."

Once I had taken a moment to process the foreign concept of living without the woods being a central point of restoration, renewal, and inspiration in everyday life, I realized the incredible opportunity before me; I was about to become a guide into a whole new mythical world for this couple. Over the next few months, Mecauley and I spoke often about her excitement for this revelatory adventure. She gave me complete freedom with her vision, and I knew just the place - Legendary Empire Bluff Trail. This entire week has been marked by gale force winds, hail, and torrential rain, in typical Northern Michigan fashion. Not to be dissuaded, we seized on an opportunity between storms to embark on our epic adventure. And, well....photographs speak volumes more than I could tell you about how magical this adventure was.


A Summer Night on the Farm with the Bakker Family

“Oh to be a child again.

Covered in grass stains and grazes,

hair unbrushed with daisies in the knots, no concept of my own physicality,

half way up a tree and eating an apple around my missing tooth.

To be unabashedly messy,

to be unashamedly hungry,

to be healthy and hearty and lean

and covered in bruises and full of love and sun warmed strawberries.

To feel time stretch forever,

only flying when I fall into books.

To love summer once more,

and her insects and sweat.”

Wisdom in Portraits: Glenn Meteer

"Hiya, red!" Glenn Meteer greets me with the confidence and gusto of a man in his twenties, despite his impressive 96 years. It's a bright but chilly January day, and he is perched by the window at a high top table at a rustic little café in Maple City, a favorite hangout of his. He's just finished his morning errands with his daughter, Jo, and they're sharing an early lunch that I've been kindly invited to join. He has a wry twinkle in his eye as I approach, and I can already tell that I'm in for a fair bit of good-natured ribbing today. I offer my hand to shake his, and then join him and Jo at the table. "A naked Philly!" He exclaims to Jo. It takes me a moment to realize that he's talking about his lunch order. "With extra onions!" Jo nods with a smile, "I know, your usual. I'll be sure to remind them about the onions."

Glenn is a father of 5, grandfather to 12, and great-grandfather to 15. He is a life-long farmer and the proprietor of a sawmill here in Maple City, which he built on his property over a decade ago and continues to run. He has spent his whole life in this rural area of Northern Michigan, and has seen the landscape evolve, along with his own family. His proudest life accomplishment? "That beautiful Irish girl I married", he beams, without hesitation. He's bursting to tell the story, and it starts pouring out of him without prompting. In the 40s, there were dances on Saturday nights at the Thompsonville Town Hall. It was one of these summer nights that he first laid eyes on the love of his life, Shirley. "It was square dance night", he recalls. "I was in the front of the line. The first two partners I had, they didn't swing so good. But when I got to Shirley, well! That girl could dance!" At this, Jo nods with an approving smile. "To watch the two of them dance....was like watching two people floating." she says. Glenn continues. "So another boy tried to cut in. He says, 'hey, she's my partner!' And I says, 'she was your partner.'" And that was how the two became inseparable. "When we were out there dancin', it was like she was the only other person in my world. We wore holes in the soles of so many shoes, I couldn't even tell ya." I ask Glenn how he got that girl to fall for him. "Dancing. Not drinkin'." He said simply. Shirley had a lifelong distaste for drinking because of her own father, and wanted no part of it in her life.

The two lovebirds married in May of 1951 and spent a good, full lifetime by each other's side. Dancing together was central to their lives for most of that time, as long as Shirley was physically able. She passed away in 2014, only a few days before their 63rd anniversary.

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After our lunch at the café, I follow Glenn and Jo up the road to the Meteer farm. I get the grand tour of the barns and workshops and sawmill where he has spent his nearly century-long lifetime. He points out an old wood farmhouse on the property, overgrown with vines and bushes. It's the farmhouse he was born in back in March 1925. The house hasn't been inhabited for several decades, but it stands there still, untouched, a testament to the many generations of his family who have lived on this same land.

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Though he may have lost his beloved dancing partner, Glenn shows no signs of slowing his pace. With 15 great grand kids to entertain, there is never a dull moment. And while his feet don't move quite as fast these days, there's still plenty to keep that quick wit and those weathered hands busy until he and Shirley are reunited.

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Wisdom in Portraits: The Indomitable Dorothy McCormick

I first met her nearly 15 years ago at the Grand Traverse Resort, when she would come in for her regular swims and water aerobics throughout the week. The first thing that struck me about Dorothy McCormick was her magnetic spunk and sharp wit, and a outrageously unabashed sense of style that makes her stand out in any crowd. It's always a good day when I see Dorothy blow through the doors of the health club on a winter day, fuzzy white cossack hat bobbing as she makes her way to the pool with that usual confident spring in her step. On any given day, you can expect to see Dorothy in a lush fur and string of pearls, her light blue eyes shielded by a pair of massive, starlet-esque shades. The woman is a legend in her own right.

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I knew from the moment I met her that she and I would be kindred spirits, so I was incredibly excited when she agreed to let me photograph her. Since my goal was to capture her spirit honestly in these photographs, I wanted to first understand what makes her tick. To hear her tell her story. It’s a really intimate experience to photograph someone candidly in their home, so it helps to approach with open ears and fluid expectations. On the day of our visit, Dorothy welcomes me into her airy condo with a warm hug, and we sit down in her kitchen together to a wheel of scrumptious looking baked brie. I quickly discover that Dorothy is very transparent person. Her view of the world is one of knowing optimism, and she looks back on her life with a sense of gratitude that is palpable in her words. As she pours me a glass of the local white that she picked up especially for my visit, she tells me that she was excited for the excuse to grab a bottle, since she’s given up drinking by herself these days. When her husband Bill passed away almost two years ago, dealing with the loss and loneliness was easier managed with a drink or two. Before she realized, her coping mechanism had become its own pitfall. “The grief just overtakes you. It’s like a frog in boiling water; It was so easy to go down that spiral without even being aware of it.” Her breaking point came one day when her oldest granddaughter was visiting. Dorothy blacked out after her second or third hummer on an empty stomach, and woke to find her granddaughter shaking her and calling out to her, a look of sheer panic on her face. Recounting that look of fear, fear that she herself caused her precious granddaughter, clearly pains Dorothy. It was a harsh wake up call for her, and she resolved that it would never happen again. “It’s a very common struggle for people when they lose a spouse,” she says earnestly. “If you don’t get a hold of yourself, if you don’t decide that you want to go on with your life, you can easily follow your spouse into the grave in no time flat. And I don’t want that, I want to be here for my kids.” Since that day, she spends time with friends in her neighborhood and church who have also lost spouses. A support system helps to keep the loneliness and at bay. “And besides,” she says with a wry smile, “my doctor says I’ve got another twenty years in me!”

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Dorothy’s sunny kitchen is strewn with painting supplies and paintings in various stages of progress. Some still life, some portraits of people, and a couple of impressive close-up studies of lone eyes brimming with tears. Dorothy jokes with a dismissive wave that she is a “wannabe” artist, but I can see her passion jumping off of each canvas at me. Dorothy first discovered that she could draw and paint scenes from memory while she was working with special needs elementary students early in her career. This became a powerful medium she used to communicate with and help her students, and it has remained a big part of her life ever since. Her tables and windowsills are bedecked with her most prized possessions – photographs of her three children and their children, portraits of her and her late husband Bill looking glamourous in the prime of life, various snapshots of moments in time frozen in frames. Dorothy recounts how she met Bill at a friend’s Christmas party when they were both in their early twenties. As he made a move to come talk to her in the middle of a crowd of people, he tripped, spilling his drink on her blouse. “I remember thinking that he literally fell for me, big time”, she laughs. They were married just 10 months later.

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Their love story, though idyllic in photographs, was often fraught with pain for Dorothy. She shares some candid glimpses into some of the struggles she faced during their long marriage, conveying the vivid emotions associated with those memories. At one point, she pauses to look out the window. With eyes welling and a tremble in her voice, she says, “But, you know….I really loved that guy.” A few moments of silence follow, thick with emotion, and I struggle to hold back my own tears as she gingerly dabs at her eyes with a cocktail napkin. “Ours was a typical marriage, I’m sure,” she says. “There were tough spots, but what matters is that we survived. We made it.” For better or for worse, 58 years. She stood by his side until the very end, caring for him as his mind and body deteriorated. Even though she admits to occasionally questioning how she handled all of it at the time, Dorothy is grateful for her life with Bill and the legacy it has brought her in their children. “He was truly my first joy, and my last.”

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As Dorothy has watched her own children grow and start families of their own, she has developed a growing interest in her own heritage. Her Jewish great-great grandparents emigrated from Austria and Hungary in 1903. Witnessing the early stages of Hitler’s rise, they took their cue to leave Europe for the States. With only 65 dollars to their name, they were the wealthiest immigrants on their ship’s register. She goes on to tell me about her other relatives spread out across the UK, even Iceland. “That’s why I’m so easy to get along with, I’m a mutt!” She laughs. “When you have a different perspective, you can empathize with more people.”

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By the time we’ve finished our wine and a good portion of the brie, Dorothy has laid out some very private corners of her life like an open book. I’m inspired, not only by her stories, but by the way the sum of her experiences has culminated in vulnerability and grace instead of the bitterness that can so easily find roots in a human heart. Dorothy and I migrate into her bedroom, and I watch as she applies lipstick in front of her generously sized vanity to prepare for her close up. She jokes, “I’m using a more conservative shade, so my lips don’t enter the room before Dorothy does.” Maybe it’s the combination of her humorous self-awareness and the image of her standing there perfecting her lipstick in the mirror with all the poise of a grand duchess, but I’m suddenly transported back to my childhood, and so many quiet mornings spent watching my grandmother get herself ready for a day out together.

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Before I left for the evening, Dorothy gifted me a book from her library, a beautiful collection of photography using candid photos to tell the stories of families and the deep bonds they share. Inside the front page, she wrote, “Thank you for sharing your passion with me.” What a mutual gratitude that was.

That evening, I had the chance to ask Dorothy for a priceless gift: A single piece of wisdom, something that she wants me to carry through life. I loved her answer.

“Keep on keeping on. At any age, persevere. Get up, pull up your panties, and get on with it. Whatever it is.”

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The Robertson Family - Christmastime 2020

Ridley is one month on the outside, and things are looking pretty magical in his little world.

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