I photographed fields in the late fifties and over the years have photographed the same spots many times always finding something new. I photograph the water in the morning, then in the evening. The water is never the same, nor am I, or you. In winter the ice is magical, not static, as one might imagine, but dynamic, powerful, a churning force for light to play on. Perhaps Kelleys Island is not a better or richer place than any numbers of others, but it is my home. If it isn’t already yours, enjoy the visit.