On the night of May 11, 2024, the nort­hern lights were visible as far south as Germany, inclu­ding near Malsch, my home village. The nice thing about this night was that the Nort­hern Lights lasted long enough for me to photo­graph several subjects in my home town. Also because I was already at the first subject when the aurora appeared. Here, the Anere­sels cross in the viney­ards of the Letzenberg. 

Possibly a once-in-a-life­time shot. Nort­hern lights of inten­sity level KP9 over the Letzen­berg­ka­pelle Malsch. I remember the evening exactly. After the fore­casts for a starry night and the intense solar storms of the last few hours, there should at least be a chance of seeing the Nort­hern Lights here. After an hour’s wait at Aneresel’s Cross with a clear view to the north, they appeared. When I had taken the photos there with a beau­tiful green arc, I was drawn up here to the chapel. In the mean­time, the inten­sity had increased consider­ably and you could see the nort­hern lights shim­me­ring red and purple over the Letzen­berg with the naked eye. Perhaps a unique, breath­ta­king experience. 

Possibly a once-in-a-life­time shot. Nort­hern lights of inten­sity level KP9 over the Letzen­berg­ka­pelle Malsch. I remember the evening exactly. After the fore­casts for a starry night and the intense solar storms of the last few hours, there should at least be a chance of seeing the Nort­hern Lights here. After an hour’s wait at Aneresel’s Cross with a clear view to the north, they appeared. When I had taken the photos there with a beau­tiful green arc, I was drawn up here to the chapel. In the mean­time, the inten­sity had increased consider­ably and you could see the nort­hern lights shim­me­ring red and purple over the Letzen­berg with the naked eye. Perhaps a unique, breath­ta­king experience. 

On the night of May 11, 2024, the nort­hern lights were visible as far south as Germany, inclu­ding near Malsch, my home village. The nice thing about this night was that the nort­hern lights lasted long enough for me to take photos of several motifs in my home town. Here already deeper into the night at the small chapel on Galgenberg. 

On the night of May 11, 2024, the nort­hern lights were visible as far south as Germany, inclu­ding near Malsch, my home village. The nice thing about this night was that the nort­hern lights lasted long enough for me to take photos of several motifs in my home town. Here already deeper into the night at the small chapel on Galgenberg. 

From the cloud constel­la­tion I could tell before sunset that there must be a beau­tiful sky, so I packed my drone and rode my bike as fast as I could to the Letzen­berg. For this shot I had to let my drone take to the skies with some distance, from where I could take a vertical panorama with 3 shots. You have to anti­ci­pate the finished image a bit to have the right perspec­tive and distance. The end result is just beautiful. 

Nur im Sommer bietet sich die Möglich­keit die Letzen­ber­ge­ka­pelle von vorne zu foto­gra­fieren und in ihrem Hinter­grund ein Abendrot leuchten zu sehen. Für diese Aufnahme stieg ich mit der Drohne gerade einmal bis zur Spitze der Kapelle empor, um ihr buntes Dach vor dem bunten Abend­himmel zu fotografieren. 

When I noticed how perfect the condi­tions were that morning, no one could stop me. The fog line was just below the summit of the Letzen­berg as the sun rose and enchanted this already fairy­tale place even more. 

The oppor­tu­nity to photo­graph the pilgrimage chapel Malsch directly at the fog line at sunrise, arises to me perhaps only once in a life­time. I am ther­e­fore to this day infi­ni­tely grateful that my wife had given me the decisive tip. The fog cover was thin enough that it came to exactly the edge of the Letzen­berg, collapsed and reve­aled the viney­ards below. 

Anyone who knows the special loca­tion of this small chapel knows that weather condi­tions like this, when the fog just barely brushes the summit of the Letzen­berg, are extre­mely rare. With my drone, I was able to capture such a rare moment, showing the hermi­tage in a dress of autumnal colours and mist. 

For many, the Letzen­berg Chapel is a nice desti­na­tion for an excur­sion. At the edge of the Kraichgau, you have a great view. Photo­graphers are also drawn here again and again for great motifs. The view from the top of the hermi­tage is defi­ni­tely not yet so well known, but just for that reason special and exciting. 

Actually it was one of my first test flights to test the camera of my drone. Previously, I had already learned func­tion and opera­tion in open fields and now I wanted to make some great shots once. The light at the Letzen­berg Chapel in Kraichgau deve­loped well, thanks to light veil clouds and I could make this great shot directly towards the sun, in which the Letzen­berg Chapel seems to float on green clouds. 

Only very rarely do you get to see the Letzen­berg Chapel like this. To get to see the other­wise colorful red and green roof in all white, you have to be quick. Quickly the snow begins to slide on the steep roof, or even a little too much wind can be enough that the roof is no longer comple­tely covered with snow. The possi­bi­lity to see the Letzen­berg Chapel covered in snow is getting rarer by the year. Ther­e­fore, I am happy to have captured one of these moments in this picture. 

From these two beau­tiful buil­dings in the Orst­kern Malsch, I wanted to make a special shot for a long time. Not only histo­ri­cally inte­res­ting, but also by their appearance that had deve­loped very posi­tively thanks to reno­va­tions, they are beau­tiful photo motifs in the heart of Malsch. 

A light haze lay over the hills of the Kraichgau region as the sun announced itself from behind the horizon, crea­ting a beau­tiful morning atmo­sphere over my home­town of Malsch. 

On this frosty, but beau­tiful spring morning, a wonderful morning red drew. Since I already waited some time for such weather for this motif, I knew exactly what to do, so pack camera and look that one is in time on the spot. In any case, it was worth it. 

A light haze lay over the hills of the Kraichgau region as the sun announced itself from behind the horizon, crea­ting a beau­tiful morning atmo­sphere over my home­town of Malsch. 

On a cool evening in April I could photo­graph the rising moon, shortly after the sun had set. Due to the shadow of the earth there was a great colo­ring on the horizon and from this this great photo of the parish church of my home town with the super­moon was created. 

On a cool evening in April I could photo­graph the rising moon, shortly after the sun had set. Due to the shadow of the earth there was a great colo­ring on the horizon and from this this great photo of the parish church of my home town with the super­moon was created. 

Dieses traum­hafte Bild eines Sonnen­auf­gangs im Winter habe ich mit meiner Drohne aufge­nommen, während ich auf dem Boden mit meiner Haupt­ka­mera eine Timel­apse-Aufnahme dieses wunder­baren Morgen­rots und Sonnen­auf­gang foto­gra­fierte. Beide Aufnahmen sind unglaub­lich schön geworden, wie ich finde. 

I can remember that morning exactly. I didn’t have any parti­cular photo­gra­phic idea, but just rode around my home­town a bit with my bike and my photo equip­ment. In the flood­plain I took a few shots in the misty haze. When I noticed that the incre­asing sun was colou­ring the light, still exis­ting mist gold, I spon­ta­neously had the right idea. I drove as fast as I could through the village and up the Letzen­berg. There, at the right spot, I used the golden back­light and the haze in the air for this exci­ting shot, which shows the silhou­ette of the parish church in the centre of the village. 

On this glorious morning I had ever­y­thing set up for a great timel­apse video. After the sun had risen, I finished the recor­dings for the video and still recorded this great sunrise mood in our viney­ards. So it’s still worth trying out a bit and not just doing the manda­tory part. 

Diese Aufnahme entstand an einem Früh­jahrs­morgen in der Aue meines Heimat­dorfes Malsch. Auf den ersten Blick eine wunder­bare Aufnahme eines charak­ter­vollen Baumes im morgend­li­chen Licht im Nebel­dunst. Erst auf den zweiten Blick sieht der Betrachter die Silhou­ette der Pfarr­kirche Malsch. Für den Einhei­mi­schen sicher­lich sofort als Malsch erkennbar. 

How beau­tiful it must be to be a bird? This photo is once again a shot that can only be taken with a drone. I flew verti­cally up just a few feet above my head to find this perspec­tive. I photo­gra­phed almost directly toward the sun, which was still so low after sunrise that even small trees cast meter-wide shadows. The shadows lead the eye into the image, adding depth to this shot. Beau­tiful how the warmth of the sun and the cold snow contrast. 

A clear winter morning is actually not that rare for us. However, we often have the misfor­tune that the snow, if there was any at all, has already melted again. This winter we were lucky and the Letzen­berg Chapel could sunbathe in the snow despite cold feet. 

After a long wait, I finally had great winter weather condi­tions in my home village of Malsch. Of course I used the chance of the blue hour directly. The first photo of the morning shows the village center photo­gra­phed from the Letzen­berg. Although I started very early, a little luck was still neces­sary for this photo. Already with the second “shot” the light of the steeple went out, but I had my photo in the box. 

Die Tage, an denen über Malsch eine geschlos­sene Schnee­decke liegt sind mitt­ler­weile rar. An diesem Morgen konnte ich mein schönes Heimat­dorf jeden­falls unter einem leichten, zarten Winter­kleid foto­gra­fieren. Die Farben der blauen Stunde, als auch die Lichter des Ortes sorgen für eine wunder­bare roman­ti­sche Winterstimmung. 

Die Advents- und Weih­nachts­zeit in Malsch ist eigent­lich beson­ders schön. Die Beleuch­tung entlang der Haupt­straße, an den Fach­werk­häu­sern und dem Zehnt­keller tragen eine Menge dazu bei. Aber so ein rich­tiger Zauber entwi­ckelt sich erst, wenn es dunkel wird und es viel­leicht auch noch beginnt zu schneien. An diesem Morgen schneite es ein klein wenig und ich musste die Chance nutzen, egal wie wenig Schnee es auch sein mag. Ich war jeden­falls schnell genug, diesen Hauch von Winter in einem Foto einzufangen. 

No gray filters were neces­sary for this shot, because it was already dark enough to get an expo­sure time of 30 seconds and thus capture some passing vehicles. passing by. Actually, I wanted to take the picture first without lights of passing vehicles. Because it went the half-timbered houses of Malsch and the moon, which drew a small halo — a kind of round rainbow — in the thinly layered clouds. But as a final product, the version with the lights was much more dynamic and gave the photo a contrast of modern and old and light and dark. 

Mal wieder kündigte sich ein Super­mond­auf­gang zu einer guten Uhrzeit an. Wir hatten gerade die Kinder ins Bett gebracht, da fragte ich nochmal meine Frau, ob ich denn auf den Letzen­berg gehen könne, um noch einmal ein paar Land­schafts­auf­nahmen zu machen. Ein halb verständ­nis­volles Nicken von ihr, dass zur hälfte auch als, “wieso denn schon wieder?” inter­pre­tiert hätte werden können, und schon war ich auf dem Draht­esel, um zum Spot zu fahren. Die frei­ste­hende St. Juli­anna Kirche bietet sich für diese Art von Aufnahmen gera­dezu an. Ich posi­tio­nierte mich und wartete. Das Ergebnis ist gelungen, wie ich finde. 

More often than usual, one could find Malsch’s main street deserted in the Corona year. With the shoo­ting tech­nique I had used in this photo­graph, one would bring the main street to the camera sensor deserted anyway. With the help of gray filters I increased the expo­sure time to almost 10 minutes. This was the only way I could capture enough streaks of light from passing vehicles after dusk set in to nicely image the curves of the main road. At the same time the passing clouds blur into long drawn stripes. The lights in the windows of the Zehnt­keller buil­ding I had to add them with the help of Photo­shop. Without it, the scene looked so lifeless. 

At a wayside cross in the Malscher Aue stands this wayside cross. For years I have noticed the diffe­rent foliage colo­ra­tion of the two framing trees in the autumn season. This evening I waited for the right time when both are illu­mi­nated from behind by the setting sun. The sun still had to be a little above the horizon, so that the long-drawn shadows on the paths work and lite­rally draw the viewer into the picture. For the sun star in the middle of the tree in the back­ground, I had to wait only a few minutes for the perfect moment. 

The morning at the small chapel in the outskirts of my home village was beau­tiful in all respects. A small cloud forma­tion moved up in time and colored the sky in beau­tiful colors. As the sun rose, even the bare vineyard got some sun. To repre­sent the moment of sunrise and dawn in one picture, I decided for this work for a so-called time-blen­ding. The red clouds and the sun, which gave the land­scape some struc­ture through light and shadow were taken with exactly the same compo­si­tion about 30min apart. 

When on this early autumn evening the sun’s rays committed a wonderfully warm light over my home­town Malsch to lay, I went with my camera on the way. I wanted to take a pano­r­amic shot of my home­town that shows the place with beau­tiful autumn colors. I succeeded. A shot from a total of 11 vertical photos and over 105 MP. 

If you look at viney­ards from a diffe­rent angle, you can discover some fasci­na­ting things. In this picture, it is clear how perfectly the winegro­wers align their rows parallel to each other. The arran­ge­ment in diffe­rent cardinal direc­tions some­times creates inte­res­ting patterns in the viney­ards, which are also a great sight from above the rows from a bird’s eye view. 

While “flying over” the autumnal viney­ards, one pattern in parti­cular caught my eye. Some adja­cent rows quite clearly depicted the Baden flag. Reason enough for me to photo­graph these rows of vines from a bird’s eye view. 

The rows of vines are not always beau­tifully colored in rows. Often they are quite colorful from green, yellow, to orange, red, and depen­ding on the wine variety, deep burgundy or almost purple. These parti­cu­larly beau­tiful rows of vines keep it wonderfully uniform with yellow to red hues. Viewed from above, you can see how dense the rows are. 

The view in the photo is in the direc­tion of the Upper Rhine Plain. This tree with almost heart-shaped crown in late autumn has already dropped its leaf dress and you can see its silhou­ette great. 

This beau­tiful little chapel stands at the highest point of the Schin­del­berg. The sunrise in late year allows this pheno­menal photo with sun star at the foot of the chapel. 

This picture was taken when a beau­tiful evening glow shone over the fairy-tale Eich­ters­heim Castle in Angelbachtal. 

This evening red over the church St. Peter and Paul in Rauen­berg, which is also called the “cathe­dral of the Kraichgau”, presented itself not only beau­tifully, but even a special form of so-called halos, the upper light column. This weather pheno­menon occurs when the sunlight of the setting sun is reflected on ice plate­lets in the atmosphere. 

Early in the morning in autumn there was a beau­tiful light over the old town of Heidel­berg. The light morning red provided pink and purple hues in the sky, which were reflected on the Neckar River. 

Some time before sunrise I took this photo of the old town of Heidel­berg above which the castle towers. There was still a nightly calm over the city, even if there was already some life. 

A beau­tiful autumn mood, which I could take here through a few leaves on a wall of the Heidel­berg Old Town. High above it the famous Heidel­berg Castle and the brightly colored leaves of the adja­cent forest. Just beau­tifully romantic. 

A popular sight is the Old Bridge of the Old Town in Heidel­berg. On this autumn morning there were still no visi­tors on the bridge, only the busy crows, provided for life. 

A land­mark of Heidel­berg is certainly the Old Bridge. In this picture I captured the morning atmo­sphere with several expo­sures. A little longer expo­sure times for the water, a little faster and slightly under­ex­posed to photo­graph the sky and the crows sharp. 

The clouds were not bad for a morning glow when I arrived at Steins­berg Castle this morning. As I waited the minutes before sunrise for the best light, however, the clouds moved away secretly, silently and quietly, so that no sunset red could appear above the castle. Nevert­heless, there was enough mist and fog in the surroun­ding area to create a wonderful atmo­sphere in the land­scape. The result was an all-round successful picture of the beau­tiful castle near Sinsheim. 

A wonderful evening light of the setting sun I could photo­graph this evening at the castle Strah­len­burg in Schries­heim. For the image compo­si­tion I used the curved viney­ards that lead to the castle. 

I was ready to set off in a half-eight posi­tion, as the weather fore­cast predicted fog for the beau­tiful autumn land­scape in Kraichgau. I had a few things in my head for which the weather fore­cast predicted great condi­tions. But in the morning, there was less fog than I had hoped for. I quickly looked for alter­na­tives and after the sun had risen, I was able to photo­graph this foggy atmo­sphere with golden light. A photo that looks better the bigger you have it in front of you. 

Vor ein paar Tagen habe ich unsere heimi­sche Wein­berge in wunder­schönem, warmen, sommer­li­chen Morgen­licht abge­lichtet. Wie man solch einen schönen goldenen Schein hinbe­kommt, habe ich unter anderem in meinem BLOG/VLOG erläu­tert. Das Ergebnis jeden­falls lässt einen die sommer­liche Wärme spüren, die an so einem Sommer­morgen durch die Sonne schon in den frühen Morgen­stunden verbreitet wird. 

Many pictures of rape­seed fields are taken when the sky is blue. The yellow of the canola, gives with the blue of the sky a beau­tiful color contrast. I wanted to take a more special picture, so I used the last seconds before sunset to posi­tion the tree in the field exactly between me and the sun and get a nice mono­chro­matic picture. 

This shot was taken on a hill near Mais­bach in the Rhein-Neckar district. The first frost of the winter months settled over the fields as the morning sun provided a great morning atmosphere. 

A summer morning on the banks of the Neckar in Heidel­berg. Even before the city begins to awaken, the sun is slowly approa­ching the horizon and already illu­mi­nates the clouds above the old town in reddish colours. The warm light settles on the historic buil­dings of one of Germany’s most beau­tiful cities. Hardly anyone is out and about, but I had the right nose and am on the spot to capture this wonderful scenery. What luck.