November Sunday Morning

An excerpt from November Sunday Morning by the poet Alvin Feinman on a Sunday morning from Lake Michigan.

“And the light, a wakened heyday of air
Tuned low and clear and wide,
A radiance now that would emblaze
And veil the most golden horn
Or any entering of a sudden clearing
To a standing, astonished, revealed . . .”

See all of the photographs from the last nine years of the Lake Series here or follow along as I explore this and other projects on my instagram account.