Location Taken: Frankfort, Michigan
Time Taken: May 2011
For a long time, there was a poster of the lighthouses of the Great Lakes hanging above the stairway in my home. It wasn’t framed, held up by nothing but tape, and it slowly curled up from small tears until it tore itself apart. But for the time it was there, I would frequently stop and look and search.
I’ve seen a number of the lighthouses along the shores of the lakes, the tall buildings on the shore warning ships of where they where. There’s always something eye-catching about them. For obvious reasons, they’re put in the most prominant spots, where the land curls around, where the harbors are found, both the places ships must avoid and those they want to find. They’re tall, so the light can be seen further than otherwise, and they’re frequently painted either bright white or in an intriguing pattern.
This particular one is bright white, but it’s also at the mouth of a harbor, and thus just providing a guiding light rather than a warning one. Ships missing this one is not quite as perilous. It’s built out on a long pier, built as a breakwater, smoothing the waves near shore to ease ships in and out of the bay.
I’ve seen this lighthouse many times, but I think I have only walked out on the pier perhaps once, and that long ago. For much of the year, the waves are too strong or too cold, and frequently cover the pier in thick layers of ice during the long winter months. And when I visit in the summer, I am far more likely to walk along the beach than out on the pier.
I am not even certain it is still accessible to the public. Many things have limited their access since I was young, and this may be one of them.
Or perhaps it is still open, and one day I shall walk out along the concrete once more, and marvel at the height of the lighthouse.
