First Off — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
First off I hope everyone enjoyed a relaxing, joyful holiday season, and that you’re primed and pumped for a memorable 2017. Say it with me now two thousand seventeen! Seriously, where does the time go? My brain is still somewhere in April 2007. But such is the way of things. Before we kick things off in this new year please take a look at my 2016 year in review—featuring my 12 personal favorite photographs from 2016—it’s always my favorite post of the year.
Getting back to the present I realized it was the twelfth of January and I’d yet to make a photograph in the new year. In fact, I had yet to make a new photograph since December 21, 2016. A three week drought? Yikes. Anyway, I made it to Dock Road today just in time for sunset. Instead of going for the usual color approach, I opted for a sepia treatment similar to a photograph I produced back in November. I’m a fan of this monochrome hue and found it appropriate to leverage here. Nothing too crazy, nothing too fancy—just a means to get 2017’s photostream off to a sound start. Now onto number two. Cheers.
These Are Your First Steps — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
These Are Your First Steps | Capture Date: January 14, 2016 | Location: Barnegat Bay Beach, Barnegat, NJ
For 2016 I added Barnegat Bay Beach to the rotation of spots to frequent on the regular in hopes of making photographs, and over the past 12 months it has produced quite well. Coincidentally it was my first visit that yielded my favorite result—the surreal, near upside down emptiness captured above. Made at blue hour looking east over Barnegat Bay, it’s easy to lose spatial coherence as colors, shapes, and forms merge at a horizon you can barely even see. The few clues offered the viewer come by way of an exposed jetty that I assume is for tying up jet skis and amorphous blobs just underwater atop the sand. It’s an image that commands thought, asking its viewer to piece together just what kind of otherworldly place this is.
What can I say? I’m a snow lover. All my life I was told I was going to hate it once I grew up and had to “deal with it.” Yet here I am, 34 years old and I dig it as much as ever. (Sorry, not sorry for the pun.) This photograph was made just after a heavy wet snow stopped falling deep in the New Jersey Pinelands. I was romping around Jeep style with my buddy Jon for some trail rides and photos. Once the snow stopped and the sun broke out we got out at a crossing within Greenwood Forest Wildlife Management Area to snag shots as the snow was rapidly starting to melt. I can’t ever remember snow melting so quickly. The onset of sun raised what were already marginal temperatures to the upper 30s/low 40s and natural snow balls began rocketing from the trees; snow was melting so fast you could literally hear it at a loud volume. It was fascinating. Struggling to avoid taking a snow ball to the lens I quickly made off with this handheld frame. Almost immediately it became a favorite. The way the sun works of the snowy pines coupled with the remnant red oak leaves marking the foreground. Despite being the dead of winter there’s plenty of energy and life imbued in this photo.
The Home Fire Still Burns — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/5
The Home Fire Still Burns | Capture Date: June 5, 2016 | Location: Surf City Sunset Park, Surf City, NJ
Fast forward a few months and we come to June. After a Long Beach Island afternoon of busted storm chasing with Jay and Jon, we stopped off at Surf City Sunset Park on the way back from Barnegat Light. Fortuitously it tuned into one of those exercises in timing. As it is with many things in life, timing is everything in photography. Here the frontal passage associated with a line of weakening thunderstorms timed perfectly with back edge clearing to the west just at sunset. This offered exceptional lighting conditions. A specific kind of drama that only comes with storms clouds that fill the column of atmosphere at numerous heights. The affords ample bouncing light contrasting against fascinating cloud shapes. Here it set the stage, and I was most pleased to be there to capture it.
Darkest Light | Capture Date: July 4, 2016 | Location: Ocean Acres, Stafford, NJ (my parents’ side yard)
Hey a Fourth of July shot so how about some fireworks and flags? Yeah!—well sorry. The best I can offer is this black and white photo of hibiscus. Two things you’ll need to understand about me: 1) I adore black and white, and 2) flowermacros are always going to hold a soft spot—they’re how I learned to work a camera. But beyond nostalgia I appreciate this photograph for its shallow depth of field and smooth bokeh, as well as its lines and composition presented in a vertical orientation. And if I really want to tie in an Independence Day theme, the stamen and pistils seem to be exploding from the out of focus petals toward the rear. It’s a simple photograph but I just love the strong contrast and intensity that calls me back to look at it again from time to time.
When I Think of Summer — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
When I Think of Summer | Capture Date: July 5, 2016 | Location: Cedar Run Dock Road, Stafford NJ
The title, When I Think of Summer, pretty much says it all. Even though many of my southern Ocean County cohorts would associate a sandy beach and sweet swells—and maybe some ice cream and barbecue—with summer, it’s the marsh that brings it on home for me. Particularly the marshland of Cedar Run Dock Road. For the better part of two decades this road has been a regular stop off in my routine. Physically close to home yet lightyears away for a quick and cashless escape. Well before I started making photos this was a place of zen. This past July provided a vibrant visual treat out over the marsh, bringing together lush green sedge and a kaleidoscopic pastel sky overhead. Here’s to thinking ahead to summer 2017—oh, and my parents now keep a boat here so this place just got a little bit sweeter.
Flip Side — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
Flip Side | Capture Date: July 20, 2016 | Location: Cedar Run Dock Road, Stafford NJ
Hey look, anotherDock Road shot and another July selection. July sits head honcho in this years best of with three photos chosen. In fact, and as you will see, late spring through early fall dominated my 2016 with eight selections happening between June 5 and October 7. While I still maintain winter produces some of the best skies, this year has provided visual proof that spring and summer ain’t no slouch.
This photo works in the pastel peace and tranquility of the saltmarsh. Made just beyond its summer peak, tall grasses framing foreground pull the viewer into the image. The ghosting from a strong evening wind creates a sense of movement further enhancing the sense of place with the photograph. While taken at sunset, this shot is actually facing north by northeast—it just so happened to be one of those setups where the sky colored up for 360 degrees of cotton candy visual joy. You don’t always have to look west.
Ray of Hope — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
Ray of Hope | Capture Date: August 20, 2016 | Location: Harvey Cedars Sunset Park, Harvey Cedars, NJ
At the time I made this shot I knew the rays you see above as crepuscular rays. Which is to say a fancy word that I cannot for the life of me pronounce. However, I’ve since learned these are more accurately called anticrepuscular rays—which of course I still can’t say. Regardless this is what science calls rays of light the run from a single point of light—the sun—and radiate upward back into the sky. Pretty cool, huh? They aren’t exactly a regular occurrence so I was rather pleased when they timed up nicely with a serene sunset from Harvey Cedars Sunset Park. If you ever find yourself on Long Beach Island’s north end this is a great spot to take in a sunset, play on some swings, or take in a free concert on Wednesday evenings.
Still the Sirens Call — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
Still the Sirens Call | Capture Date: September 2, 2016 | Location: Cedar Run Dock Road, Stafford NJ
Ladies. Gentlemen. Children of all ages. Cats, dogs, alpacas. This is a big time favorite of mine. It definitely slots into my top five, and would have been my top choice for the year had I not made what you will see as the final entry in this list. Captured on Dock Road (shocker) a world class sunset caught fire over Cedar Run tributary and marsh. When you combine that with a still glass mirrored reflection and solid compositional elements, you have yourself a landscape photograph that brings together all the essentials. I can still remember being out there, completely enthralled by the sky around me. So much so it was easy to forget about my purpose, which was the capture the scene. Of course this is great in its own way, nature has a knack for shocking us, for stunning us, for overcoming us and forcing us to be present with the joy and wonder of our surroundings.
Stacked | Capture Date: September 5, 2016 | Location: Antoinetta’s Waterfront Restaurant, Cedar Run Dock Road, Stafford, NJ
Sunsets come in bunches. While we sometimes wait weeks or months on a truly great sky, when they appear, they tend to come in rapid succession. Only a mere three days removed from the stunner two photos up some more magic happened out front of Antoinetta’s Waterfront Restaurant. Antoinetta’s is a go-to photo spot of mine, and it’s had a photograph make both my 2014 and 2015 best of lists. The spot’s got charm, what can I say? While the compositions have been similar over the years, the sky and the sand is always changing. Offering a fresh perspective on an otherwise familiar scene. That said there’s one little detail I am particularly fond of here. The hand stack stoned cairn to the left, reflecting the orange glow of the sunset burn brings an extra element of charm—a positive human touch if you will.
Tend Your Craft — 35mm | f/1.4 | ISO 160 | EXP 1/30
Tend Your Craft | Capture Date: October 7, 2016 | Location: Long Beach Island Foundation of the Arts and Sciences, Loveladies, NJ
Whoa—a person? Is this for real? Obviously the list takes a turn for photo number 10. I suppose this would be a good time to mention these photographs are sorted in chronological order only, they are not listed in terms of rank. With that out of the way I selected this shot 1) because it’s a departure, and 2) I think it tells a great story. Pictured here is my good buddy Jeff. This past October I was hanging at the Long Beach Island Foundation of the Arts and Sciences watching him work his magic on a soda kiln firing. Since I was there I decided why not make some photographs? Having zero expectations I strapped on my 35mm and popped off some wide open exposures. Jeff was good enough to ignore me and it helped me to better capture the essence of the real work that goes into making real art. I keep saying—to myself anyway—I want to experiment more with photographing people; perhaps 2017 will help bring that to bare?
Bayside Burn — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/8
Bayside Burn | Capture Date: October 29, 2016 | Location: Surf City Sunset Park, Surf City, NJ
This marks the second of what will be three vertically oriented photographs in this retrospective. This has me tickled because I admittedly struggle making good compositions in the vertical, and so to have three make the list has me feel like progress is being made. For some perspective, the past two years I’ve done this I’ve only had one vertical photo in each year end list. So keep it up, Greg!
This picture is another one from Surf City Sunset Park. Were this park not inanimate, and were I a famous photographer perhaps it would be pleased? Anyway, I was just happy to be there to capture what I think is the third—possibly second—best sunset (judging on sky color alone) I happened to capture in 2016. Intense orange radiating out from the horizon as it softened to pastel pink and purple atop the sky. I especially like how it works against the gentle wave lapping ashore in the foreground to tie it all together.
Once More Unto the Breach — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/400
Once More Unto the Breach | Capture Date: December 21, 2016 | Location: Rand’s Marina, Great Bay Boulevard, NJ
Last but certainly not least is so damn cliché but I’ll be damned if it doesn’t apply here. Now I know I said this list was not going in any kind of ranked order, so it just so happens that this is my personal favorite of 2016. Made on the first day of winter it already marks a special place in my deepening photo cache. This easily slots into my all time top three, only behind this and this. Maybe it’s coincidence maybe it’s not, but all three have come from the same spot, what once was Rand’s Marina, and at the same time of year—December. Granted alignment has something to do with it—winter is when the sun jogs far enough to the southwest bringing it to a full prominence this spot otherwise lacks in summer. But more so I think it’s the hundred or so derelict pilings that make this spot so special. It offers seemingly endless combinations of compositions to exploit. It’s a true go to spot for any landscape photographer.
Coda
There it is, folks. My favorite photo moments from 2016 captured in 12 photographs. I want to thank you all for taking the time to share in the photo journey with me, and if you haven’t already please check out my best of lists from 2014 and 2015. Thanks again, and cheers to a happier, healthier, and better 2017. We all can make a difference.
Once More Unto the Breach — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/400
People, can we take a moment to talk about this photograph? I try my best to avoid any and all self aggrandizement while beating my chest set atop a majestic horse who itself sets atop an ivory tower, but man, I am in love with this picture. Let’s start with the truthful reckoning: I in no way shape or form set out to make this photograph tonight. I went to what’s left of Rand’s Marina along Great Bay Boulevard in search of a sunset—the kind you’ve all seen here time and time again—yet I came home to find this diamond in the rough waiting for the figurative drill and polish. To be brutally honest I made this as something of a throwaway. I was doing my usual handheld single shot investigation of the premises trying to lock in my final composition where I’d then set my camera upon its tripod only to mill about, fiddle with my phone, and wait for the sun to set. And while I remember staring down the viewfinder when making this one-off I had a brief, well this has an interesting look to it thought fly in and out of my skull. It was the ramp descending into nothingness that was noteworthy at the time. From there I went to a different spot entirely to take my sunset position and wait.
However once I got home and imported into Lightroom its potential started to command my attention. With a few preset and slider manipulations I landed on this brooding, low key wonder. It was perfect. The intensity. The mood. The loneliness. The power. All of it speaks to me in ways I struggle to articulate. I can’t say I’ve ever been moved quite like this by my own work before—even falling back to my art class days of painting and drawing. Somehow something has clicked here. Perhaps it’s the far departure from my typical work? Maybe it’s the happy accident that led me here? Or maybe still it’s something I can’t yet figure out? All I can say is that I pleased by the emptiness and depth this image evokes.
Happy Little Trees — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
Here’s a taste of last night’s sunset sauce. Man, it’s been a minute since I’ve photographed from Stafford Forge. Most of this has to do with my new car and the subsequent obsessive compulsive disorder that comes with it. Can’t be having dings, dents, and scratches says my anxious mind. And since the Forge requires some non-asphalt treading I’ve given in to fear and stayed clear. Last night—after a six month self-imposed exile—I returned to a fine stretch of land that’s made for some solid photos in the past. The timing is right, too, as the sun angle from this locale is best served in the winter months when the sun orients itself at its most southwest position.
While last nigh’t sunset doesn’t slot into that ZOMG level it was still pleasant to take in. Winter color is not to be trifled with. When you combine a cold air mass with some mid and high level clouds you’ve got a recipe for intense coloration. The saturation of red and orange burned vividly even as it was cast upon rapidly dissipating cloud cover. Had we had a higher deck of cirrus clouds I think the ever elusive purple tones may have come to bare. (Purple is my favorite color of the sunset rainbow, by the way. I wonder if purple having the shortest wavelength affects why it renders itself less frequently than the other colors?) Nevertheless it was great to be back out in nature tucked behind these three happy little trees. They were kind enough to let me join in on their power trio while offering their services as a suitable foreground prop. Cheers, fellas.
Coming up in the not too distant future? My annual best ofretrospective. It’ll be up on December 24, 2016, so I best get cracking on my top 12. With any luck I can squeeze out one more quality shot before the post goes up.
Headlong to the Horizon — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
A few thoughts as we get cracking on this here post: Hot damn it was cold today. Snow may still be a twinkle in my eye but the first real shot of Canadian air is hardly a figment of my imagination. As my body struggles to adjust to colder climes I warm myself if only mentally by anticipating the great winter sunsets to come; can’t beat winter color, you guys.
Also on the list of brain happenings while shooting—I’m pretty pleased with this vertically oriented photograph. I’ve talked about it many times before, and while it still rings true, these essential landscape photographer compositions do not come as easy to me. But I like today’s results.
Next item up dealt with some pondering on whether or not I should open up comments on this here website again. I disabled them at least a year or so ago on account that there really weren’t any. Not unless you’re counting spam, of course. Perhaps it’s worth giving it another go? Of course it’s not like I’m in a position to solicit feedback from anyone regarding this decision considering comments are disabled, so, uh, yeah… Send a carrier pigeon or something.
Lastly my thoughts are turning toward a coffee table book. Over the years several people have independently encouraged me to go down this route—especially over the past 12 months. The first dozen or so times I disregarded the idea in its entirety for a host of reasons. 1) Who would want it? 2) It’s a lot of work. 3) What if it sucks? 4) Who can I find to edit and reign in my babbling? 5) Who’s going to print it? 6) Related: what does the supply chain look like? 7) Seriously, who would want this? But after two years of full stop dismissal I am beginning to think it may be worth legitimate consideration. So now I am going to start chipping away at this seven points to see if this is a project worth pursuing. I’ve got all these photographs and all these words about them maybe it’s worth brining them to people’s homes. I’d say leave a comment and let me know how you feel, but yeah…
Blue Window to the Soul — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
There’s little doubt Rand’s Marina has rocketed up my list of favorite spots to photograph. The cedar pole and bay water combination provides plentiful foreground opportunities, and it’s compositionally strengthened with derelict dock remnants in the middle ground backlit by marsh, clouds, and sky background. It’s just a great space for making landscapes. While this shot was made Monday, December 5, 2016, I didn’t have enough time to get it posted until today. Preparations for a long, exciting week with the day job took precedence; laundry must be done, and bags must be packed, ya know? But now that I’m back home I’ve got time to properly blog it up.
Looking forward a bit, it’s getting to that time of year where I’ve got to start thinking about selecting 12 shots for my annual best of—due out December, 24, 2016. The past two years its proven to be a fun retrospective of a year’s week. It’s proven a great way to benchmark where I’ve come from so I can calibrate where I’d like to get to. Beyond that, I’ve gotten my hands on a Pulse Camera Remote from Alpine Labs—it’s charging now!—and I am eager to broaden my horizons through the world of time lapse. For years I’ve been wanting to explore this road but I never pulled the trigger on an intervalometer. Finally that time has come. Now I just need to figure out what I’m doing. . .
I Look at the Floor and I See it Needs Sweeping — 35mm | f/2 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/40
You’ll find no nature here. Only aged remains of a disued shack left to dereliction. What happens when we’re gone? When all else fades but the ruins of a life gone by? When the fire has gone out and time comes along to reclaim fashioned resources back to dust? Undefeated is time. The second law of thermodynamics tells us so—entropy mandates decay of any and all things found in a closed system over time. This is why a famously felled Humpty Dumpty was never put back together again. Ironically human progress shields us from this fact. Civilization throughout the ages has achieved greater and greater levels of order, enterprise, and design when in reality we build our great monuments of progress to cast baseless doubt on the truth—incremental and inevitable disorder and decline. The next dark age waits just around the corner. Just as a great castle fortress was built high atop the hill only to be blast asunder from some new armament built only to destroy. Always forward is the arrow of time. Always locked in the battle of life, death, progress, and decay.
Mayhaps, Marie, had the guillotine not intervened and the mechanics of time proved malleable, you may have found sanctuary here. Alas revolutions come and turbulent throngs shall be paid their pound of flesh just as Charon, too, must be paid. Never forget the will of the people, Marie, for they will not forget you.
I’m mixing up a familiar motif going with sepia post processing treatment on this photograph. I could have went with my usual color approach but there’s something about the aged yellow monochromatic hue that tells a different kind of story here. I have photographed Antoinetta’s Waterfront Restaurant numerous times over the years, and I’ve always given it the full color treatment. Having gone down that road before I’m glad my gut wrenched me to sepia. Perhaps it was the eponymous Antoinette Only sign that turned my mind down a historical path? Scratching my subconscious to make this photograph look weathered and worn. Perhaps it’s a reflection of the cold unwelcome I felt shooting mere feet from a sign imploring me to keep out? You are not welcome here, sir. They’re an alienating thing, signs. A declaration of boundaries that while oftimes explicit ironically leave much open for interpretation—especially for the less secure among us. Who stakes claim to place? Who will come to usurp it?
Before You Go — 35mm | f/1.4 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/800
After last night’s negative tilt trough supreme wrought a 30 degree temperature drop; rain, snow, and sleet; and gusts of winds the Anemoi would be proud of in the span of roughly three hours these leaves are now gone. But 24 hours ago they were still here, so hey, maybe almost does count? Such is the onslaught of winter. One minute you’re hanging around LBIF dropping off photos on a 66 degree day and the next minute you’re running for the coat closet. Weather mood swings be damned, I’m happy I got to see my first flakes of what I hope will be a good old fashion snow-down for the winter of 2016–2017. Big snow, people—big snow. Measured in feet. (Meters would be even better.) I’m what they refer to in nerdy weather circles as a cold weather snow weenie. I’ll own it.
As for this photo it’s a bookend of sorts. Made one week ago it’s something of a mirrored close-out to I Saw Red which was made back in April when this very maple was in spring bloom. This tree of mine makes for a great subject as 1) it looks cool, and 2) it sits right outside my front door standing sentry at the House of Greg. This keeps things easy. Just load up the 35mm lens, set the aperture wide open, and step outside in my soft pants to squeeze off a few frames. It also gives me a chance to work on my vertical orientation game which I often ignore. Many a skilled New Jersey area landscape photographers do a great job exploiting the fall and documenting its seasonal change. As you’ll note by my lack of autumn type leafy photographs through the years you can surmise I have been measured and left wanting in this arena.
