A fresh rain leaves the park promenade mirror-slick, so every lantern repeats itself twice—once in the air, once in the puddles that stretch toward the vanishing point. A couple strolls with their dog under the trees while the lamps float like paper moons, and the damp night air smells of soil and ozone just outside the frame.
Hoasca 800 thrives on scenes like this: the ISO headroom lets me handhold the Olympus Mju II without sacrificing the subtle glow around each light, and the stock’s cyan shift turns wet stone into cool teal so the orange lanterns really burn. Grain adds a touch of grit to the distant fence and tree trunks, letting the walkway stay glossy and bright. The compact lens keeps the central axis sharp while the periphery blooms, reinforcing the feeling of being drawn down a luminous corridor after the storm.
