Sunrise No. 861 of 2,000+
- Sunrise time: 6:25
- Azimuth: 63° ⇡
- Did the sun rise: Yes
- Was the sun visible: Not quite
- Felt like: 27 ºF
- Air Temp: 32 ºF
- Humidity: 85%
- Wind: 5 mph ⇡
- Wind gust: 7 mph
Exposure
- 18mm
- f/5.0
- 1/250 sec
- 400
Sand Point, Baraga, MI
54 mile commute
📍 46° 47' 2" N, -88° 28' 2" W
Musings [792 words]
For 860 consecutive mornings and sunrises, Delilah has been at my side. Or around my neck I should say.
Nicknamed by my friend Khalid, I have leaned on the same camera morning after morning, through all kinds of conditions. There have been mornings where she’s been absolutely drenched. There have been mornings where I got to sunrise and realized my batteries were home in the charger (thankfully I was close to home and able to run home quickly).
This fateful morning is the first sunrise in nearly 2.5 years where I didn’t have the 3 pound giant slung around my neck. For what it’s worth, it wasn’t intentional.
The Big Whoops
It all happened during a quick trip home to Baraga. I was going to be home for just a single night, and I know Delilah well enough that a single sunrise requires very little battery, one of her best features.
Like I had done so many nights before, knowing I was going to drive, rather than walk, to sunrise the morning, I left Delilah in my car overnight so she’d be there when I was up and ready to go. And for a single night, I certainly don’t plan on bringing the charger or an extra battery.
Just another quick getaway, just another sunrise, I had thought.
As I got into my car the next morning, I made sure everything was good to go. I flipped on Delilah’s power, nothing. I flipped it off and on. Nothing.
For May, it was cold on this morning. According to my weather API service, it was 32º that morning with a 27º apparent temperature, but let me tell you it felt colder. For May, that is definitely cold. On average, on the southern shores of Lake Superior, the average apparent temperature at sunrise during the month of May is closer to 41º. While far from the coldest, we are still talking 10-15º below average.
My battery, during the long cold night, and without a chance to warm up, had simply died.
Thankfully, maybe at that point it was in the back of my mind, I had checked my camera before putting my car in drive and headed out for the morning. Though I wouldn’t have been far.
I was irritated and frustrated with myself. How could I? It felt shameful how unprepared I was.
Quickly, I went into panic mode. With my parents still sleeping, I rummaged around until I was able to find my mom’s Canon Rebel. It’ll have to do I thought.
I made it to Sand Point Lighthouse and it was an incredible beautiful morning.
The biggest struggle was I hardly knew how to work this camera. It was set to Program mode, there wasn’t certainly no back-button focusing setup, and worst of all, I found out later that the photos were being saved as Small JPG. Best of all, wow, was that camera light. Between camera body and lens, it was more than two full pounds less hanging around my neck. That part felt good.
It’s a mistake I won’t make again, at least for a long, long time.
Thank you mom, for always having a camera around, for saving this morning when I was clumsy, and of course, for being directly responsible for my interest in photography from the beginning.
Hey there, Delilah
I’ve never been one to anthropomorphize my possessions, and frankly I never did with ths camera, but I’ve embraced it ever since Khalid coined that name for this trusty, old reliable, beast of a camera. I fully embrace it now.
What once felt silly to express, no longer does, and that is Delilah has become an extension of my body. One day, hopefully long into the future, I’ll write a beautiful ode to Delilah. Once the camera becomes an extension of the body, I mean it becomes mindless, and the more mindless the camera becomes, the more present you can be at sunrise, or simply, any subject you’re photographing.
Other photographers, I’m confident, can relate to this. With countless buttons and features, I can operate this professional camera as an amateur with my eyes closed. I feel naked without that unnecessary weight slung around my neck. Everything from the durability during rainstorms to its unique color profile, a camera that is already twelve years old, she has given this project a feel of its own.
It’s odd, how “close” we become to these inanimate objects we rely on, how they can feel like an extension to us. And while a toothbrush gets used more frequently, it never lasts as long, and it certainly doesn’t directly contribute to the purpose and vision of a creative endeavor that has taken over your life. Unless, maybe, you’re a dentist.
Outtakes
Become a BugsyLand™ member
to view outtakes
