This is an image taken a few minutes after yesterday’s. I was at the railway station booking a seat reservation. One has been taken before, the other one after, both in spots a few meters apart.
No battleship without a cannon, right? Well, this one looks like I would have imagined the Enterprise’s Phaser cannons in my childhood.
Star Trek was my favorite TV show in elementary school and we played it in all our breaks. My mother had sewn badges that we pinned to our shirts, my father had created wooden phaser pistols.
I was Captain Kirk, my best friends were Spock and Scotty, a girl that I secretly adored was Uhura, but now I wonder who played Dr McCoy. This all stopped when I changed school at 10, and many of them I haven’t seen any more. “Scotty”, who in reality became a doctor, died a few years ago. Strange to think that he is only a memory now.
All the images that I made on Pyramidenkogel’s observation tower are of the rather non-touristic type. This is home-turf, a place where I can come back any time I like (although I normally don’t do it), and this puts me in a different seeing mode. Not that I don’t see or look for that type of images when on vacation, but in other countries, in places that I’m not likely to visit again, at least part of my attention is on documenting.
F11 is unusable on Micro Four Thirds, they say. Well, I say if you must, you must. In this case I had to. Here I’m standing on the lookout platform of the observation tower on Pyramidenkogel in Carinthia. It’s on top of a free-standing mountain and has a breath-taking view over central Carinthia and its lakes. Look at this sample from my blog, posted 11 years ago.
Today’s is a rather uncommon view directly down on the parking area. The red thing in the upper-left corner is a signal light a meter from the camera, the ground is 90 meters below. There was nothing to conveniently focus on between the two.
Radenthein is a small town in Carinthia, in earlier times mostly known for its garnet mine. Today it is a museum and children can pick their own garnets from the stone. Once they have a few, the stones can be brought to the shop, where they are cut and polished. It’s a nice idea and seemingly a big success.
An interesting fact that I learned was, that in the 1500s, the high time of Radenthein’s garnet production, the stones were not cut and polished in town, they were transported to Prague. There the emperor employed the best of Venice’s jewel cutters.
Sounds cool, working as an expert for the emperor? Forget it. They lived miserable lives, had to work lying flat on their bellies, pressing garnet against rotating grindstone. The position was unnatural and crippeling, the dust ruined their lungs. So much for being an expert.
Alternatively I could also call this post “The Fisheye” 🙂
It’s interesting: I don’t use that lens very often, but I use it regularly. Sure, this image was taken more than five months ago, but I’ve used my new fisheye every once in a while in between.
I had one on the Nikon D300, and there it was more of a novelty. I used it for some time and then almost never again. It seems, that in the meantime I have found my way of working with this lens.