Golden hour at Griffith Park
Climbed the trail just before sunset. The haze over the basin turned everything a soft copper, and the city lights started blinking on one block at a time. I stayed until the last pink drained from the sky — three frames that mattered, the rest deleted on the walk down.
What I keep returning to is how flat the midtones get up here. Expose for the sky and the hillside falls into silhouette; open up for the trees and the highlights bloom. This one sits in the middle, a little muddy, a little honest.
I took the long way back to the car. Street lamps came on in clusters. A coyote crossed the road without hurry. By the time I reached the parking lot the color was gone, and the camera felt heavier than it had on the way up.
Next time I will bring the AE-1 and a roll of Portra. Digital is convenient; film forces me to wait for the frame instead of spraying through it.