You’re looking especially fine this morning. If you’re a dad, happy dad’s day. If you’re missing your dad, please know my heart is with you. I always look forward to what the kids come up for me to do with them on this day. I’m up early … the sun has been coming up about 4:30 these days, and these early mornings are so peaceful. The lake remains still. The light has not yet hit the “golden” moments, but it won’t be long. Meanwhile, the mountain is reflecting a deep bluish-green-purple color in the water, and we’ve got some puffy clouds. Hope it’s not rain. I’m sitting in a bright red Adirondack chair, which is entirely appropriate, considering I’m at a lake in the Adirondack Park.

I’m in a relaxed state of mind as the fog lifts off the lake this Sunday morning. There is a loon about 30 feet off the dock and she just took a dive, startled by the noise of my fingers on my iPad’s keyboard. The lake is quiet and peaceful, no boat noise. I did see an early morning canoe in the distance, in the shadow of the mountain. There are layers of trees, each a little lighter and grayer as they recede into the distance, and the water is still as a statue. The lake is like a giant amplifier, and I can actually hear the conversation of the couple in the canoe though they are a half mile away. Nothing interesting, just small talk.

As a family we had been spending our summers on a lake in Indiana for three generations (four including my brothers and me), and I remember my dad saying that when his grandfather used to take him fishing on the lake, there were no speedboats, no noisy Jet Skis, and almost no homes on the lake. But that all changed, and my dad began to realize that the only reason our family was still on this lake was because he’d grown up there. We were there for tradition. His grandfather had been there because it was a beautiful and peaceful place at the time.

Sunday mornings are special to me because I don't have to wake early and get the kids off to school. It's the day I break my routine of going to the gym before work. My Sunday-morning routine is to wake up before everyone else in the household, sit here in my studio in the "model's" chair, and just think. It's nice and quiet, and I can look out over the property to enjoy the golden morning light.

As I was driving to the airport and rushing to catch a plane, my father sent me a text that said, “I’m going to come to your Plein Air Convention. I want to see what you do.” I was blown away. My dad was going to take his time and money to get on a plane and fly across the U.S., in order to be supportive of his son.

I feel like one of the luckiest men alive. I knew and spent time with my grandparents as an adult and had all four for many years into adulthood. Three out of four lived into their mid-90s, which is a strong indicator of good genes. I’m also blessed to have both of my parents, and they remain active, mentally alert, and very engaged. In fact, my dad flew out to the Plein Air Convention by himself and hung out with us for a couple of days before he went on a photo expedition. He wanted to see what his kid does for a living and be supportive. I’ve got a great dad and mom who support me.