One of my favorite things about living in Chicago is driving (or biking) along Lake Michigan in the early morning on my way to work. Not surprising, I know... but it is A-MAZING how not a single sky above that water is the same from day to day. And by default, neither is the color of the water. I wish I had a few photos to post of some of the gorgeous lake/sky views I've seen this summer, but I don't. ALERT: It is dangerous to snap photos and try to drive at the same time. But I have one today. Never mind how I got it.
I was enticed to take pics of the morning today because... well, look at it! It was so dark, the streetlights were still on! There's no looming storm, no out-of-the-ordinary clouds... it's just the inevitable – the sun hasn't come up yet; the days are getting noticeably shorter.
Usually, this part of the turning season gets me down every year. I was born in mid August – I thrive off of sunshine. My family teased me often in my youth, saying I was a vampire because I rarely turned on any lights in the house. I just preferred natural light. My body's reaction to the looming plunge into dark months ahead is the dreaded Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD). Yep, I get it. It's dark when I leave for work. I work long hours in a room without windows. The sun has already set when I leave work. Sadness ensues.
This year, instead of dread, I've decided to feel hopeful. Hope is a strange alternative. Hope is the opposite of depression. The key to overcoming depression is having something to hope for. I hope for sunny days, yes, but I have my camera now. I hope for more photo shoots. I hope for pictures that freeze moments and moods that aren't found on sunny days. I hope for desaturated glamour poses of old friends and new clients. I hope for frames of snowflakes on my nieces' eyelashes. I hope these upcoming darker, shorter days turn into the best short, dark days of my photo-making yet.
Image: Oct 2 Lake Michigan ©SpiderMeka Photography