Hardcore weight lifters have the unique ability to love repetition. Not just reps on the squat rack, but repetitions in ritual: the lifting schedules, the cardio cycles, the refeed days, and the repetitive meals geared towards optimal nutrition.
Anyone who can eat bland white rice, broccoli, and chicken breast 10 times per week and think ‘now, this is livin’,’ is a better man than me. Eating and doing the same thing every day in pursuit of a goal that’s largely subjective seems odd to the outsider, but there’s merit in the lessons it teaches.
Wil McReynolds has that same innate ritualistic talent. A local of Leith on the eastern shore of Owen Sound Bay, he frequents Leith Beach on the regular – sometimes daily – and usually photographs it in some form or fashion.
For years, he’s done this. Anyone without his vision may say, ‘How can you still be interested in shooting the same place 1000 times?’ But like the weight-lifter, Wil has found peace and enjoyment from reframing his experience to see this place – a special one for him personally – and reinvent it, daily. He has the unique ability to see with more than his eyes; as a shooter, he sees with spirit, and that’s intriguing to me.
Looking at his canon of work, he’s captured this relatively small environment in a plethora of unique ways that give it the illusion of grandeur. His work successfully tells different stories and pulls new emotions from its viewers, passing on visual information that transcends the limitations of its geography.
In a lot of ways, Wil’s work beckons us to look at the world differently, even if we feel nothing has changed. For him, the welcome challenge is finding beauty in reimagining what’s in front of you.
RR: Because I know you personally, I know how close you live to Leith Beach. You’ve managed to generate a unique body of work in a relatively small environment. How much effort do you put into finding new perspectives? Is that a challenge you seek out?
WM: Living near Leith Beach has been a gift because it allows me to return to the same place constantly and watch it change. Georgian Bay rarely looks the same twice. Wind, cloud layers, ice, fog, and light all transform the shoreline from hour to hour. That means the challenge is not finding a new location. The challenge is slowing down enough to notice what’s different that day.
I spend a lot of time looking for subtle shifts in perspective. Sometimes that means walking the same stretch of shoreline and trying several angles. Other times it means waiting for the moment when the sun breaks through a cloud layer or when the water reflects just enough colour to create a mood. Returning to the same place repeatedly actually trains the eye; the more familiar the location becomes, the easier it is to see the small changes in light, weather, and atmosphere.
Working in a small environment forces creativity. The same shoreline people pass every day can produce thousands of different images depending on the conditions.
RR: I can’t interview you without asking about your love of the aurora borealis and photographing them here in Grey County. What is the process of bringing out the colours from the sky from a photography perspective – how do you produce the images you do?
WM: Aurora photography often starts with watching space weather, but the kind of aurora I tend to chase is what are called substorms. These are smaller bursts of geomagnetic activity that can happen outside of the big news events people usually hear about. They can be short-lived but very intense.
Substorms are exciting because they can produce colour that is visible to the naked eye. When that happens, you are not relying on the camera to reveal something hidden. You are standing there watching the sky move and change in real time. That is a completely different experience from photographing a faint aurora.
From a technical standpoint, I still use a tripod and wide lens when possible, but when the aurora is strong enough, the exposures can actually be much shorter. The camera simply helps record what is already visible. Editing afterward is minimal and mostly involves balancing contrast and colour so the photograph reflects what was actually happening in the sky.
RR: Tell me about the moniker ‘The Grey Bruce Explorer.’ For the audience, if you’re from this region, you grew up listening to theGeorgian Bay Explorer (RIP Andrew Armitage) on the radio – was this a desire to expand on what Andrew was doing somehow?
WM: Andrew was a historian and storyteller. His work helped document the heritage of this region and preserve its history for future generations. My work is much simpler than that.
The Grey Bruce Explorer name came from a love of wandering around this area and capturing what I see along the way. In many ways, the photographs are just small visual records of everyday moments in Grey and Bruce counties.
One of the reasons I continue my page is because I learned how much the photos mean to people who cannot get out to these places anymore. Some are older, and mobility has become difficult. Others moved away years ago and miss the shoreline, the sunsets, and the changing seasons here. Hearing that the images reconnect people with a place they love really stuck with me.
In a way, the photos could become a companion for another Andrew in the future. Historians document the stories of a place. Photographs can quietly record what the place looked like during a particular moment in time.
RR: On the topic of process, I know you’re a very tech-savvy guy; I wonder how you feel your process has adapted over the years, and further, what about the advancement of photography gets you excited? Is it better that photography has become easier?
WM: Photography has evolved dramatically over the years. Cameras have become more capable, sensors perform better in low light, and reviewing images instantly allows photographers to experiment more freely.
What excites me most is how accessible photography has become. People can capture meaningful images with tools they already carry in their pockets. That lowers the barrier for creative expression and allows more people to share how they see the world.
Even with those advances, the fundamentals have not changed. Technology helps capture the image, but observation and patience still matter far more than the equipment itself.
RR: Speaking of tech, editing in post has become a monumental deal for the new generation of photographers. It’s overdone a lot of the time, and on the other end of that equation, some photographers make it a point to edit as little as possible. How do you find the balance of editing what needs to be edited and finding a look that suits your personality as an artist?
WM: My editing approach is intentionally simple. I make small adjustments to exposure, contrast, and colour so the image reflects the moment more accurately. Beyond that, I try not to spend much time polishing the photograph.
I do not watermark my images, and I rarely hold onto them for long before sharing. I prefer posting them quickly while the moment still feels fresh. It becomes a kind of fire-and-forget process where the photograph is shared, and then life moves on.
That immediacy keeps the experience authentic. The moment itself was fleeting, and the photograph carries a bit of that same ephemerality.
RR: We’ve talked before about photography as therapy, or an escape from the stresses of everyday life. What about photography provides that relaxation for you?
WM: To me, photography creates a shift in attention. When I step onto the shoreline or into nature in general with a camera, the focus moves away from daily pressures and toward observing the environment.
Light moving across the water, clouds forming patterns in the sky, or the quiet of an evening along Georgian Bay all draw attention into the present moment. That shift can feel grounding.
Nature also moves on its own timeline. The sun rises, the wind changes, and seasons move forward. Photography becomes a way of witnessing those cycles rather than trying to control them.
RR: Tell us about your current setup.
WM: For many years, my main camera has been a Canon 6D, which has been excellent for low light work like aurora photography. Many of the images people associate with my photography were taken with that camera.
Over time, though, I have moved toward a more minimalist approach. These days I often use my phone or a GoPro simply because they are always with me. The best camera is the one that is present when something interesting happens.
That simplicity fits the way I approach photography now. Instead of carrying a lot of gear, the focus is on being present and ready to capture whatever moment unfolds naturally while I’m out.
RR: Where can people find your work?
WM: https://www.facebook.com/greybruceexplorer/
Interview by Nelson Phillips
