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«Nil sub sole novum» sagt man auf lateinisch: nichts neu unter der Sonne - oder besser, auf diesem Fall, unter dem aufgehenden Mond. Ich meine: diese Berge, aus diesem Standort, habe ich schon mehrmals gezeigt. Wenn ich aber auf Pano 22134 von Jörg E. gestoßen bin, der aus 17.06 Uhr stammt, habe ich an die Fotos gedacht, der ich sieben Minuten später gesammelt hatte, und deren "eilige" Zusammensetzung hier man sieht.
Leider blieb der Stativ im Rücksack, da ich im tiefen und weichen Schnee keine feste Stelle für ihn finden konnte - dementsprechend kommt die Qualität.
14 HF, Zoom 70-300 mit 70mm, ISO 400, f/5.0, 1/320 Sek.
Panoramio: http://www.panoramio.com/photo/85431107
Klaus Brückner, Paul Chater, Hans Diter, Gerhard Eidenberger, Jörg Engelhardt, Felix Gadomski, Jannis Gligoris, Manfred Hainz, Thomas Hansen, Johann Ilmberger, Thomas Janeck, Martin Kraus, Werner Maurer, Gianluca Moroni, Jörg Nitz, Uta Philipp, Jan Lindgaard Rasmussen, Danko Rihter, Patrick Runggaldier, Arne Rönsch, Bruno Schlenker, Adri Schmidt, Walter Schmidt, Christoph Seger, Michael Strasser, Sieber Toni, Augustin Werner
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Kommentare
lG,
Jörg E.
Ganz nach meinem Geschmack.
LG Hans
Lg Hans
Used to publish mainly on PPH, and sometimes even panoramas from "interesting" and/or "instructive" locations, I am quite surprised and amused to gain more appreciation here, with an occasional work coming from the Fontanella (!!).
Of course, this is only a personal remark... After all, as some poets have pointed out, the moon is always the same both in the most remote locations and over the roof of one's home!
The huge mountain meadow that you see below the moon (hosting also a nice bivouac) bears the name Tauro... the same as the Taurus mountains in Turkey, but nobody knows why - actually, I think that nobody ever posed the question.
So, for me it is striking to see the moon rising from this "homely orient" and, by looking at it, my thoughts fly to far places - and, in particular, to the true Turkish mountains. In 2008, on the Akdag, that is, the "Mont Blanc" of Lycia, I had dropped the sleeping bag on the side of a track at 2000 m. Around midnight, I heard some light whispers. Opening my eyes, I guessed a shepherd with some sheep passing by. The poem "Night song of a wandering Asian shepherd", by Giacomo Leopardi, which we study at school, was coming true... But I was surprised that the full moon was less bright than when I had fallen asleep. Putting on the glasses, I discovered that a partial eclipse was in action! (picasaweb.google.com/albertopedrotti/Mediterraneo#5346383859782614898)
It also turned out to be precious for me. Namely, in the two days on the Akdag I had run out of food. The next morning, in the full light I detected a car that I had not noted before. Why a car in such a desert place? There were two nice guys from Fethiye: you know those people who live on the shore of the sea but are fond mountaineers... They had come there to observe the eclipse in the clean mountain sky. This brought to me a rich breakfast, and the opportunity to stay another day on the mountain!
http://allpoetry.com/poem/8527631-Night_Song_Of_A_Wandering_Shepherd_In_Asia-by-Count_Giacomo_Leopardi
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