I did my first graveyard shift for Black Press back in September. I was part of a crew of photographers who were to document a day (or 24 hours, as it were) in the life of Esquimalt. My shift ran from midnight until seven in the morning, and boy was I glad to come home to get some sleep. I would be hard pressed to call Esquimalt ‘lively’ on a Tuesday morning in September, but I did get some decent shots, though.
Before heading out around half past eleven, I tried to catch a shut-eye for an hour or so. That didn’t work, but I did get some rest. I made some coffee, which I put on a thermos, and a sandwich. I also bought some chocolate covered coffee beans the day before, in case I finished the coffee. I found that I didn’t really need them, but I had some anyway – they’re that good.
It was strange driving around town, and it even became a bit eerie when the fog started rolling in. I was frequently reminded of The Mist, a Stephen King novella I read a few years ago, especially when I stopped at Macaulay Point Park.
All in all a good night, and I learned a few things along the way – which is always a good thing.
