Poggio al Lupo

Sulla via di casa le nuvole si fanno minacciose, il sole sta tramontando e quasi certamente piovera’. Il cielo sembra un telo pizzicato e tirato verso l’alto, risucchiato, e grigio scuro come una colata di bitume. Come si fa a ignorare una luce del genere? Fortunatamente il mattoncino e’ a portata di mano e veloce da usare, anche in manuale. Qualche scatto, poi via veloce, prima di infradiciarsi; e a casa si scatena un meraviglioso monsone rossastro. Se solo non avessi voluto uscire a correre…

On the way back home the clouds get menacing, the sun is setting and it will almost surely rain. The sky seems a pinched cloth, pulled up, sucked, and dark grey like a bitumen casting. How can one ignore such a light? Luckily the little brick is handy and quick to use, in manual mode as well. A couple of shots, then run avay, before getting drenched; and at home a wonderful reddish monsoon pours down. If only I wouldn’t have gone out running…

Two-shots panorama, Canon G9, manual mode

Maledetta pioggia – Damn rain

In queste maledette giornate piove come se dovessi subire una qualche punizione degli dèi per peccati commessi stupidamente; non riesci a fare niente, non esci, aspetti semplicemente che passi, che si stanchino di perseguitarti e passino alla prossima vittima. Non posso uscire a correre e quella maledetta influenza mi ha gia’ dato un colpo alle spalle. Vigliacca. Eppure questa tormenta ha un non so che di affascinante, qualcosa che ti ipnotizza e ti costringe a stare li’, ad ascoltare il vento che urla e ti sbatte la pioggia sui vetri come stracci sporchi di fango. Mi verso un altro bicchierino di te’, ormai non li conto piu’. E resto a fissare la pioggia che sferza i pini. E’ cosi’ bella.

These damn days it rains as if I had to suffer some sort of punishment for stupidly committed sins; you can’t do anything, you don’t go out, you just wait for them to get tired of persecuting you, passing over to the next victim. I can’t go out and run and that fucking flu already backstabbed me. Coward. Yet this storm has something fascinating, something which hypnotizes and forces you to stay, listening to the howling wind which knocks the rain against the windows like mud-dirty rags. I pour another tipple of tea, I stopped counting them. And I watch on the rain whipping the pine trees. It’s so beautiful.

Skyscraper



Skyscraper, Follonica, February 2008
Follonica is a strange place. A small town with a lot of relatively small buildings and condos, narrow one way streets, a messy urban plan and a single unusually weird skyscraper one can clearly notice from the other end of the gulf, i.e. Piombino, my hometown. What’s most weird is that you could imagine life around it, I mean shops, people, traffic; well, the truth is that the raw parking lot is almost empty, no shops around, no people, nothing. I decide for an extreme architectural perspective, it’s – obviously – starting to rain and though I have a tiltable display pointing the lens upwards ain’t the best thing to do. No worries, after all it’s only cold and windy too, there isn’t light but an iso 200 equiv might work. I need 1/8 s, hold it firmly, man, or you’re gonna miss it. Click. Click. Click. Three shots, my lens is covered with tiny raindrops. One will be ok: the one above. Oh, and I was almost sure to find a fine on my car’s windshield, which I luckily didn’t.


Copyright 2008 by Alessandro “RonJe” Melillo

Camera: Nikon 5700
Film: digital 200 ISO equiv
Focal Length: 35mm (in 35mm equiv)
Aperture: f/2.8
Exp. time: 1/8
Filter: none

Location: Follonica
Soundtrack: —
Other: —