Stefan Official Offline Upload & Sell: Off
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Thank you again for the kind feedback. I truly appreciate it!
For those who are not deeply familiar with the subject, I’d like to share a bit of background. This image was not a lucky shot, nor was it a typical wide-angle lightning photo. It is the result of years of preparation, many failed attempts, and a great deal of persistence.
Most lightning photos are taken with ultra-wide-angle lenses over open landscapes, capturing 30 to 50 kilometers of sky in a single frame. The camera only needs to be roughly pointed toward the storm. Compared to that, it’s relatively easy, as there is no specific main subject that has to be hit.
Today, there are modern lightning triggers with light sensors or app control that automatically release the shutter when a flash is detected. They work brilliantly for wide, open scenes. But for a very specific subject like this, they are not particularly helpful, because the lightning needs to strike a very small, defined area. This is a completely different type of photography with an extremely high failure rate.
My photo, in contrast, captures only a small section of about 200 by 150 meters – just 0.03 square kilometers. To catch a lightning bolt in such a narrow frame, you need to invest many, many nights. My goal was to capture a strike directly in that tiny area – right at the center of the power plant.
In Karlsruhe, where I live, we get about 25 thunderstorm days per year on average. But only a small fraction of those occur at night. And even then, many storms are too far away, too weak, or pass by too quickly. You’re also not always able to take advantage of every stormy night – there’s work, life, and other commitments outside of photography.
Statistically, lightning strikes an area that small only once every 25 to 40 years. And for a photo like this to happen, you have to be there at exactly the right moment – with the camera already set up, the long exposure running, and everything pointed in the right direction. It takes patience, planning, and a huge amount of luck.
But even luck can be influenced if you try often enough. I returned to this scene for years, photographing night after night during thunderstorms, always hoping that one day everything would align.
You can slightly increase the chances by including lightning that strikes five to seven kilometers behind the subject. In the photo, it often still appears as if the bolt hits the main subject. Even with that extra leeway, the realistic chance is still no more than one visible strike per year – and only if you're in the right place at the right time and the camera is actively exposing.
With every additional night, the element of chance became smaller – until one day it no longer mattered, and the photo became reality.
Looking back now, I’d say it was a very ambitious plan, maybe even borderline unrealistic. But that was probably my advantage at the time. I just went for it, driven by conviction and maybe a bit of youthful naivety.
I would guess there are probably fewer than 100 photos worldwide that show a lightning strike so precisely planned and executed on a small, defined main subject after years of repeated attempts. At least, I personally know of very few examples like it.
The image may look dramatic, but what truly makes it special is not just the lightning. It’s the effort behind it, the persistence, and the rare moment when everything comes together.
Today’s technology may be more convenient, but when it comes to such a specific subject, none of it really helps.
Unless you arrive with 1.21 gigawatts from the future and know exactly when and where lightning will strike.
But sadly, I didn’t have a DeLorean. 
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