a couple years ago
I'd been eyeing the site for a few weeks, wondering if I could capture a good night polaroid of the two construction cranes, high against a black sky. So late one Wednesday night I drove over and parked on the side of the boulevard, in the deep grass. Traffic was light as it was about 2 a.m. So I wasn't very concerned about being spotted by a passing vehicle. I gathered my tripod and backpack and prepared to hop the chain-link fence.
I don't usually have a problem climbing fences, but this time was different. The climb itself went okay, but once at the apex things fell apart. I whirled all wonky over the top and landed with a thumping splat into the mud way down below. A quick personal survey revealed no damage, so I continued on towards the two towers, looming far away and tall above, no sense of scale.
The construction site consisted of little more than several acres of freshly flattened earth and the two towering cranes. I wandered around in the darkness looking in futility for an interesting angle from which to photograph the two colossi against the stars.
It dawned on me that there was no observable security at this particular construction site, so I succumbed to the lure of the unattended ladder leading to the top of the higher of the two cranes.
Up and up the ladder went. At approximately the half-way mark the openings between stages grew more confining. So I opted to leave my pack and tripod, and continued onwards unencumbered.
There were about fifteen stages, approximately ten feet per level. So by my elemantary math I deduced that I was really high. The wind was whistling through the wires and beams, making an eerie sound. It was quite windy and yet the tower stood totally still, apparently designed to be unaffected by gusts and gales.
I wandered around amongst the high steel, ducking under beams and traversing the length of the main boom, seeking an interesting visual perspective. I downclimbed to the location of the operator's box, and saw what would be a satisfactory angle for a photo. So I had to climb back down to where I'd left my pack, then re-ascend to the operator's box, dangling beneath the long arm of the crane.
I set up my tripod and camera, and got out my big flashlight. On the box my flashlight came in it stated; 'a million candlepower'. I can't refute the accuracy of the number, but it's very bright nonetheless. And knowing that I was somewhere I ought not be, I was a bit reticent to illuminate the entire boom with a million candlepower flashlight. But art waits for no-one, so illuminate I did.
First try was a bit off, so I tried again; also a bit off. Third time was the charm, and I got an image I was really happy with. So I placed the polaroid into the little box I'd made to protect the sticky surface, and prepared to descend. Down, down, down.
While I was walking around between the cranes, a police helicopter with it's lights blazing suddenly appeared over the far side of the site; flying low and fast, straight towards me. Being in the middle of several acres of flattened earth, there was nowhere at all to hide. I was dressed head to toe in black, so quickly opted to just sit in a tight ball with my hoodie up, my head down, and my hands in my armpits. It worked, because the helicopter flew right over me and didn't stop. It didn't linger at the site, and neither did I.
I don't usually have a problem climbing fences, but this time was different. The climb itself went okay, but once at the apex things fell apart. I whirled all wonky over the top and landed with a thumping splat into the mud way down below. A quick personal survey revealed no damage, so I continued on towards the two towers, looming far away and tall above, no sense of scale.
The construction site consisted of little more than several acres of freshly flattened earth and the two towering cranes. I wandered around in the darkness looking in futility for an interesting angle from which to photograph the two colossi against the stars.
It dawned on me that there was no observable security at this particular construction site, so I succumbed to the lure of the unattended ladder leading to the top of the higher of the two cranes.
Up and up the ladder went. At approximately the half-way mark the openings between stages grew more confining. So I opted to leave my pack and tripod, and continued onwards unencumbered.
There were about fifteen stages, approximately ten feet per level. So by my elemantary math I deduced that I was really high. The wind was whistling through the wires and beams, making an eerie sound. It was quite windy and yet the tower stood totally still, apparently designed to be unaffected by gusts and gales.
I wandered around amongst the high steel, ducking under beams and traversing the length of the main boom, seeking an interesting visual perspective. I downclimbed to the location of the operator's box, and saw what would be a satisfactory angle for a photo. So I had to climb back down to where I'd left my pack, then re-ascend to the operator's box, dangling beneath the long arm of the crane.
I set up my tripod and camera, and got out my big flashlight. On the box my flashlight came in it stated; 'a million candlepower'. I can't refute the accuracy of the number, but it's very bright nonetheless. And knowing that I was somewhere I ought not be, I was a bit reticent to illuminate the entire boom with a million candlepower flashlight. But art waits for no-one, so illuminate I did.
First try was a bit off, so I tried again; also a bit off. Third time was the charm, and I got an image I was really happy with. So I placed the polaroid into the little box I'd made to protect the sticky surface, and prepared to descend. Down, down, down.
While I was walking around between the cranes, a police helicopter with it's lights blazing suddenly appeared over the far side of the site; flying low and fast, straight towards me. Being in the middle of several acres of flattened earth, there was nowhere at all to hide. I was dressed head to toe in black, so quickly opted to just sit in a tight ball with my hoodie up, my head down, and my hands in my armpits. It worked, because the helicopter flew right over me and didn't stop. It didn't linger at the site, and neither did I.