Behind the Shot: Lighthouse Reflections
The night before the photo, we found ourselves sitting around a campfire on Minnesota’s North Shore. The fire cracked and popped as sparks drifted upward, disappearing into the dark sky. A cool breeze came off Lake Superior, carrying the kind of chill that makes a warm fire feel even better. We poured a little red wine, stretched out in our camp chairs, and let conversation drift between stories, laughter, and plans for the next morning.
The goal was simple: capture sunrise at the iconic Split Rock Lighthouse. We mapped it out carefully — twenty minutes to get ready, ten minutes to pack the camper, fifteen minutes to drive. Sunrise was at 6:30 a.m., so a 5:30 wake-up would give us extra time for coffee and maybe even a few quiet moments before the light show began. We even dreamed about what shots we might come away with. Maybe a fiery sky igniting behind the lighthouse. Maybe soft pinks reflected across the lake. Maybe just the steady, timeless presence of the lighthouse itself against whatever nature decided to give us.
Morning came… but not exactly as planned. I rolled over, checked my phone, and froze — 6:10 a.m. Somehow I must have hit “stop” instead of “snooze.” Or maybe the wine had convinced me to linger in bed a little longer than I should have. Either way, the careful plan we built around the fire was suddenly out the window.
What followed was a scramble. Clothes thrown on in record time, gear stuffed into bags, camper locked up in a blur. Fifteen minutes later, we were in the car and heading north. By some stroke of luck, the drive was shorter than expected — just five minutes to the parking lot.
I grabbed my camera and hurried down a narrow trail, trees closing in on both sides. I kept looking up, desperate for glimpses of the horizon. There was some color in the sky, but it was hard to tell if we’d already missed the best of it. The path wound downhill, and then, all at once, the trees opened up.
And so did the sky.
Brilliant streaks of orange, pink, and purple stretched across the horizon, with Split Rock Lighthouse standing tall against the morning light. The scene was even better than we’d imagined around the campfire. I set my bag down quickly and pulled out my camera, hands moving almost automatically. I started firing off frames — wide shots with the lake in the foreground, closer shots to isolate the lighthouse, a mix of angles to capture the drama of the sky.
But then I stopped.
For a few moments, I just stood there. The wind off the lake was cold, the colors above seemed alive, and the lighthouse — a century-old beacon — looked timeless against it all. It’s easy to get caught up in shutter speeds, compositions, and technical details, but this was one of those mornings where nature reminded me to simply take it in.
That’s what I love about photography. Yes, it’s about capturing images. But it’s also about being present in the places that move us. Behind every photo, there’s a story of early alarms, campfire conversations, missed snoozes, and lucky scrambles. And sometimes, when all those little moments line up, you find yourself standing in front of something unforgettable.
This shot of Split Rock Lighthouse is one of those moments.
Behind the Shot: Technical Notes
Camera: Canon R5
Lens: Canon RF 14-35mm F4
Settings: ISO 640, f/4.0, shutter 1/125 sec
Approach: I started with wide shots to frame the lighthouse against the colors of the sky, then switched to a really low composition to get the reflection in a small pool of water on the rocks.
Lesson Learned: Plans are great, but flexibility is better. Sometimes a late start or rushed setup can still lead to incredible moments if you’re willing to adapt and keep moving.
