The time and circumstances of this time-lapse photograph were no more on that day's agenda than has been the abrupt appearance of a brutal emotional crash landing this afternoon.
The initial plan, on last week's anniversary of a Day of Infamy, was to revisit the Alameda Naval Air Station for a bit of pixel hunting in while the sun was shining — the Daylight Version, as I pitched the idea to my fellow photographer Jerry — of our prior (and first) visit to the decommissioned base. (An image from said nocturnal excursion can be seen in this gallery on my main photography site.) As it happened we hadn't seen one another in awhile, and in our enthusiastic catching up with one another during the relatively short drive up the peninsula we drove right past Alameda . . . and found ourselves in South San Francisco.
Thus we resorted to spontaneously formulated Plan B, which was an attempt to find a decent viewpoint overlooking the runways of SFO (San Francisco's airport) from the surrounding hills. I've long wanted to take time-lapse imagery of the activity there. With a little help from locals, we managed to summit a small bluff affording a broad vista, but by then it was extremely windy on an already bitterly cold afternoon . . . and the sun was setting . . . thus neither of us was inclined to test the boundaries of hypothermia. We called finding the view a Mission Accomplished and scurried back to the blessed shelter of the car.
Plan C, immediately formulated from desperation, was to find a coffee shop of any species.
A bit later, having thawed out, we set out for home . . . but curiosity intruded, leading to an exploration of the nearby waterfront. As I'd been in this area before, during a photography seminar weekend last summer, I knew we would be rewarded with a wholly different observation perspective of the significant air traffic, this from the bay's inner shoreline.
Capturing this image was not nearly so brutal, weather-wise, as was our earlier stint up in the hills: I set up my camera on a tripod on a walkway next to Jerry's vehicle, attached a radio-controlled interval timer, and then spent the next thirty minutes or so triggering long-duration exposures while sitting in the cozy warmth of the car. This is best result of several shots.
Most of the streaks low on the horizon are landings at SFO; the lovely arc skyward is the lone takeoff during this five-minute interval. Very close to horizon, a bit left-of-center, is a small curl of light seemingly rising from a knoll; this is a departure from SJC (San Jose).
That was a fun evening, and rewarding. That was then.
Today started out with a dose of unpleasantness at work; I suppose the flight plan had been filed but I was oblivious as to the radical course change awaiting . . . Just at the end of my day an excruciating blast equivalent to wind shear obliterated any chance of a peaceful landing for my evening's path.
It's a bit cruel how one's personal journey can be so sharply jolted by turbulence absent from the soul's radar; for me, at least, such blows are absolutely disorientating and deeply discouraging.
Tonight I feel as a stranger in a strange land. I'd love to crawl into this photograph and ride a streaking flight out to parts unknown.
© 2013 James W. Murray, all rights reserved.
(click image for larger version)
Details: December 7, 2013, Canon 7D; f/11 @ 301 secs; ±0 EV; ISO 100;
Canon EF 24-70mm f/2.8L II USM @ 25mm
Fascinating. Light patterns from flight - instead of light patterns from cars. The sky highway. I like it.
ReplyDeleteBut, you can't write what you did without sharing what happened at work the next day. Call me.