m̌ ḫ's photos

This is the kind of view that makes you pause for a moment, even if you’ve lived in Bratislava your whole life. Taken from the hillside near Hotel Bôrik, above Karlova Ves, the photo gives you a sweeping look over the city’s western neighborhoods. You can spot the distinctive high-rise in the center- it is the Television building -and the modern white apartment blocks that seem to step down the slope toward the Danube. What makes this spot special isn’t just the cityscape, but how it’s framed by nature. The foreground is all tangled branches and dark pines, a reminder that you’re standing on the edge of a leafy hillside, not far from the Little Carpathians. On a clear day, you can see the hills rolling away in the distance, and sometimes even catch a glimpse of Austria. Locals may love this view because it shows Bratislava’s character: a city that’s modern but still closely tied to its landscape. From up here, you see how the neighborhoods, river, and hills all fit together-urban life meeting quiet nature. It’s a perspective that locals are proud of and visitors quickly come to appreciate. ---Double exposition with famous Olympus XA

Líščie údolie, or “Fox Valley,” is a tranquil, forested corner of Bratislava’s Karlova Ves district, known for its peaceful walking paths and dense woodlands. The forests here are a blend of oak, beech, and hornbeam, creating a lush canopy in the warmer months and a delicate, open pattern of branches in early spring.

When most people visit Schloss Hof, they’re drawn to the palace’s grandeur and gardens, but the real engine of the estate was always the Meierhof-the massive Baroque farm complex tucked just behind the main building. Imagine it as an 18th-century “backstage area” where all the practical magic happened. Here, blacksmiths, potters, and basket weavers kept the estate running, producing everything from horseshoes to kitchenware. Many of these traditional workshops have been revived, so visitors can watch craftspeople at work, keeping centuries-old skills alive. One of the estate’s cleverest features is its orangeries, which used a pioneering underground hot-air system to grow citrus fruits year-round-a sort of Baroque greenhouse innovation. The stables were home to rare horse breeds, and you’ll still see unusual animals like white donkeys wandering the grounds today. Schloss Hof’s Meierhof wasn’t just about agriculture; it adapted with the times. During World War I, it even hosted the Austro-Hungarian Naval Academy, and later, it was requisitioned by military forces. Today, the Meierhof is a lively, hands-on museum, offering a glimpse into the estate’s industrious past-a reminder that behind every grand palace, there’s always a hard-working, innovative side making it all possible.

Ideally seen with the black background

Santa Marina, one of Seville’s oldest churches, blends Gothic and Mudéjar styles with Moorish-inspired brickwork. Its austere beauty, minaret-like tower, and luminous interior reflect centuries of cultural fusion. Surviving fires, it now houses evocative modern sculptures, preserving both history and spiritual artistry in a tranquil, timeless space. Over the centuries, fires destroyed many original artworks, but some important pieces remain, especially those contributed by the Brotherhood of La Sagrada Resurrección. The main altar is presided over by the striking image of La Sagrada Resurrección de Nuestro Señor Jesucristo (1973) by Francisco Buiza Fernández. In the nave of La Epístola, the Chapel of Nuestra Señora de la Aurora features a moving sculpture by Antonio J. Dubé de Luque (1978), depicting Mary grieving over the death of her son. The statue of a lady in black inside the church-this is Nuestra Señora de la Aurora, a modern yet deeply evocative representation of the Virgin Mary in mourning, reflecting the church’s ongoing role as a site of devotion and artistic renewal. This statue, along with the church’s layered history and architectural beauty, makes Santa Marina a quiet but profound witness to Seville’s spiritual and cultural evolution.

The Church of Santa Marina is one of Seville’s oldest and most architecturally significant churches, located on Calle San Luis-a historic thoroughfare since Moorish times. Its origins date to the second half of the 13th century, and it became a prototype for parish churches in the city during the Middle Ages, notable for its austerity, translucence, and harmonious blend of Gothic and Mudéjar styles. The church’s brick tower, with its square plan and Almohad-inspired decorative battlements, is often mistaken for a minaret, reflecting the influence of Moorish craftsmen who worked under Christian rule. Inside, the church features a rectangular floor plan with three naves separated by pointed brick arches, supported by eight cruciform pillars. The central nave is both wider and higher, ending in a polygonal apse, while lateral chapels open from the side walls. The church’s roof combines a modern coffered ceiling in the central nave with canopies and vaulted chapels, some adorned with intricate brick and plasterwork. The gate as resembling a "vagina dentata" invokes a powerful and ancient motif: the "toothed vagina," a symbol found in myth, art, and literature across cultures...

The Hogar Virgen de los Reyes is located in the La Macarena district of Seville, specifically at Avenida Doctor Fedriani, block 9, and Fray Isidoro de Sevilla 1. The building was reconstructed in 1958 and was originally known as the Hogar de San Fernando para niñas. The architect responsible for its design was Antonio Delgado Roig. The building was initially used as a residential facility-serving as a hospicio (orphanage) and hospital. It was managed and staffed in its early years by nuns from the Order of Charity. The structure still retains the layout typical of such institutions, with rooms, cells, and large halls dedicated to its original functions. Today, the Hogar Virgen de los Reyes is a large municipal complex devoted to educational and social assistance purposes. It occupies most of a city block and continues to play a significant role in community support and services in Seville. The building is notable for its considerable size and institutional architecture. It includes a former chapel, which has been deconsecrated and now serves as a multipurpose hall for events and workshops. The chapel maintains its original Latin cross shape and contains remnants such as confessionals, kneelers, and wooden pews, reflecting its religious past. The Hogar Virgen de los Reyes is also known in local legend for reported paranormal phenomena. There have been accounts of ghostly sightings, particularly of a nun said to haunt the old choir of the chapel. Other unexplained occurrences include mysterious noises, voices, and apparitions, adding a layer of mystery to the building’s history.

Puente del Cristo de la Expiración

Tucked into the leafy expanse of Mlynská dolina in Bratislava, the Slovak Television Building rises above the treetops like a silent guardian of Bratislava’s modern era. For decades, its 108-metre appearance has marked the skyline, a landmark visible from the hills of Karlova Ves, especially striking at sunset when its windows catch the last golden light. The story of this tower began in the 1960s, when Slovakia’s growing television industry needed a new home. Architect Jozef Struhar, along with Vaclav Curilla and Olga Mankova, won the competition to design a complex that would reflect both ambition and cutting-edge technology. Construction started in 1965 and, after years of effort, the high-rise was ceremonially opened in December 1975. At the time, it was a record-breaker: the first building in Czechoslovakia to surpass 100 metres, and the tallest in the country for nearly three decades. The building itself is a feat of engineering, with a reinforced concrete core housing all the elevators, services, and washrooms, leaving the rest of each floor open for flexible office space. Four concrete cross-bracing walls not only strengthen the structure but also give the facade its distinctive, rhythmic appearance. The entire television complex was built in stages, with the high-rise as its dominant feature, and was equipped with some of the most advanced broadcast technology of its time. For years, the tower was the bustling headquarters of Slovak National Television, later Radio and Television of Slovakia. It even boasted a restaurant on its 28th floor, offering panoramic views of the city. But as times changed and media operations moved elsewhere, the building gradually emptied out. Today, it stands mostly unused, maintained only minimally, a preserved relic of the city’s broadcasting history. Still, the Slovak Television Building remains a symbol of Bratislava’s aspirations during the late 20th century-a monument to the era when the city was reaching upward, determined to make its mark. To outsiders, it may seem just another office tower, but to locals, it is a familiar companion, a silent witness to decades of Slovak stories and the changing face of the capital.

I conducted an experiment where I mounted a large format lens onto a digital camera, as shown in the photo. The camera is a Nikon Df, and I used an adapter to attach the large format lens to the camera body. This setup allowed me to explore the unique optical characteristics of large format glass on a modern digital sensor. The process involved carefully aligning the lens and ensuring a secure fit with the adapter. One of the main challenges was achieving proper focus, as large format lenses are not designed for digital cameras and often require precise manual adjustment. Additionally, the lens projects a much larger image circle than the camera sensor, resulting in a cropped field of view and a distinctive rendering style. This experiment gave me the opportunity to capture images with a unique depth of field and bokeh, combining the classic qualities of large format optics with the convenience and immediacy of digital photography. The photo above documents my custom setup and the successful integration of these two different photographic technologies.

In the hush of a silver morning, the world is wrapped in a shroud of mist. Two figures drift apart on a leaf-strewn path—one fading into the pale embrace of fog, the other pausing, hand raised in silent farewell. Shadows of trees stand like silent sentinels, their outlines softened by the veil of dew. The air is thick with memory and distance, every step swallowed by the quiet, every breath a ghost in the cold. Here, time slows, and the heart lingers between presence and absence, between the warmth of a wave and the chill of letting go.

Capturing a close-up nature photo with a vintage lens and soft bokeh is akin to weaving a poetic tapestry. The lens, imbued with the character of age, wraps the scene in a gentle, ethereal blur, reminiscent of a whispered secret. As light dances through the petals of a flower or the delicate curves of a leaf, it transforms into a soft, dreamy haze, evoking a sense of enchantment. The bokeh, like a soft caress, envelops the background, allowing the subject to emerge with clarity and grace, as if plucked from a dream. This vintage charm infuses the image with a timeless beauty, a testament to the magic of imperfection.

Perched atop Kamzík hill in Bratislava’s beautiful forest park, the Kamzík TV Tower is a striking landmark and the tallest structure in Slovakia. Built in the 1970s, its unique shape ⁓ often compared to a wine bottle ⁓ stands out against the lush greenery of the Little Carpathians. From the forest trails below, the tower rises gracefully above the trees, inviting curiosity and adventure. Visitors can take an elevator up to a rotating restaurant and observation deck, where breathtaking panoramic views stretch across Bratislava and even into neighbouring countries on clear days. Whether you’re hiking through the peaceful woods or enjoying a meal high above the city, Kamzík Tower offers a perfect blend of nature, technology, and stunning scenery ⁓ a must-see spot for locals and tourists alike. ⁓⁓ I also have a film picture here www.ipernity.com/doc/havran/53036966/in/album/1376558

In Veľké Borové, a beautifully crafted wooden tower stands with traditional carved railings that reflect Slovak woodcraft heritage. These railings are not just decorative; they showcase local craftsmanship and cultural identity. On sunny days, hundreds of flies gather on the railing, drawn to the warmth. The wood absorbs and radiates heat, making it an ideal spot for them to bask. The carved features provide shelter, protecting them from wind and predators. It’s a natural and harmless phenomenon that adds a unique element to the scene.

From the foothills above the Danube, I watched the sky unfurl a tapestry of clouds, each tuft drifting west to east, just like the river beneath. The Danube divided Austria and Slovakia, but above, the clouds cared nothing for borders. Their patterns rippled across the sky, echoing the river’s flow, while bare branches below reached upward, tracing invisible lines of connection. In this moment, the beholder sensed the land’s unity—how sky, water, and earth wove together beyond human divisions. The clouds, wild and free, belonged to both sides, reminding all who looked up that nature’s boundaries were softer, more forgiving. Standing there, I felt the quiet truth: the river might divide, but the sky forever unites.

As winter loosens its grip on the Carpathians, a delicate transformation begins. Wild cherry trees, scattered across hillsides and forest fringes, awaken in a breathtaking blush of white. Their blossoms unfurl like soft, fleeting clouds against the deepening green of the ancient mountains, a fragile counterpoint to the rugged landscape. Standing beneath their boughs feels like stepping into a whispered secret, the air sweet with the subtle promise of spring. This ephemeral spectacle paints the slopes with a transient, romantic beauty, a reminder that even in the wildest places, moments of pure, gentle enchantment arrive on the breeze, celebrating nature's quiet renewal before the petals drift away like snow.

The entrance to Jaisalmer Fort is a journey through history and architectural splendour. Approaching the fort, you’ll wind your way up Trikuta Hill and pass through a series of four grand sandstone gates-Akhai Pol, Ganesh Pol, Suraj Pol, and Hawa Pol-each designed in a zig-zag to thwart invaders and adorned with intricate carvings. These gateways open into Dashera Chowk, the fort’s bustling main square, where the atmosphere is alive with the sounds of traders, temple bells, and local life. Built in 1156 and towering 250 feet above the desert, the fort’s golden walls and 99 bastions are a striking sight, especially at sunset when they seem to glow. Inside, you’ll find a maze of narrow lanes lined with Jain temples, palaces, havelis, shops, and cafés-this is still a living fort, home to thousands of residents. As you explore, be sure to climb up to the ramparts, where old cannons still stand guard, offering panoramic views over the city and the endless Thar Desert beyond.

Jaisalmer Fort, known as the Golden Fort, is a highlight for any traveller exploring Rajasthan. Perched above the Thar Desert, its golden sandstone walls seem to glow at sunrise and sunset. Inside, you’ll find a maze of lively streets lined with colourful shops, rooftop cafés, and centuries-old Jain temples, all still very much part of daily life. Staying within the fort is a unique experience, with charming guesthouses tucked among the historic havelis. Be sure to wander up to the ramparts, where you’ll discover old cannons and some of the best panoramic views of Jaisalmer and the surrounding desert.