Yesterday was weird. I woke up around four in the morning and spontaneously decided to take photographs of the Inner Harbor during sunrise. I packed my digital camera, the Leica, the Yashica. cable releases, and a tripod then set off.
It was more than cold outside that morning. I set up the medium format camera on a tripod with cable release and proceeded to take a few night photographs before the Twilight hour. I looked up film reciprocity charts and shot away in bulb exposure. I only struck me after the sun rose that I was shooting Kodak Ektar in the camera. Ektar provides great saturated colors, almost Ektachrome-like, but has a very poor exposure latitude. I'm hoping I did a good job metering... Changing rolls in frigid air was quite irksome. All the random fine, subliminal details that it takes to properly change a roll of film were thrown out the door. To top it off, this is only the third time I've loaded a 120 roll.
I felt I took a lot of cool frames. After the sun rose over the horizon, it was significantly easier to meter exposure. I feel more confident that those shots will turn out fantastic.
Here's where the morning turned weird:
I returned to my car and tried to unlock it. The thought hit me -- I left the keys in the trunk! I tried to stay calm and figure out what to do. The initial effort was futile and I broke down. The needle on the camel's back was that my phone conveniently died on me. There was 40% charge left, but the frigid temperatures harshly affected the battery.
I stood by my car on a quiet street, cold and without contact to the outside world.
I reasoned that the only solution was to call and pay a locksmith to unlock my car. The next problem was finding a means of contacting one! I tried approaching many folk, but they appeared too busy or told me they were in a rush. Finally, a woman who worked on the same block as I was parked was willing to donate a moment of her time to hear my situation. She called a locksmith, and within moments he was en route.
It felt as if eternities passed waiting for the locksmith. Every limb of my body was cold -- my dexterity was at least halved. The nice woman down the street, offered me a steaming hot cup of a coffee. That was really a morale boost for me. I felt as if there good people really do exist in reality. Being turned down by all the busy people walking by, beforehand, made me feel that my existence wasn't meaningful -- I wasn't an important enough factor in the eyes of strangers.
The locksmith eventually came and worked his magic. I was fairly interested in his technique to unlock my car. It started off with a plastic wedge in between the door and door frame. Afterwards, he placed a pump-like device (similar to like getting your blood pressure checked) in the small crack formed via the wedge. A few pumps widened that gap enough so the locksmith could fit this slim, claw-like device through the door. The claw made its way to passenger-side pillar-shaped lock, took hold, and unlocked the car. The alarm started to blare, and I ran to the trunk and unlocked my vehicle.
I've never appreciated a car's heater more in my life.