Greg Molyneux Photography

Category: Blog

Greg Molyneux’s latest photographs and words presented in reverse chronological order.

  • Eye to the Sky

    Contrails line the sky over a reflective marsh tide pool at sunset
    Eye to the Sky — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    In light of this afternoon’s smoldering sunset (and here’s a really great shot of all its fiery glory) this post seems anticlimactic at best and inappropriately titled at worst—what kind of eye to the sky worth its salt would miss out on first rate glow and a rainbow to boot? But that’s just what happened today and that’s just how it goes sometimes. The sliver lining? For once I’m not too bent out of shape. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves and call this progress or maturity; on the contrary it’s solace in knowing the fat, wet raindrops intermittently falling would not have kept my lens dry. So even if I was out there, shooting would have probably led to more frustration.

    Rewinding back to yesterday I was finally able to get back on the marsh, camera in hand. It had been over two weeks since I last partook of the photography, and as soon as I cleared the woods on the east end of Dock Road the marsh opened up and the whole world seemed a little brighter, problems a little lighter. Golden light sprawled out upon the marsh touching all corners in its reach. Even in the marsh’s browning death throes spirited light did all it could to trick the eyes that winter in fact was not coming. This sight coupled with a morning spent with a big group of spirited volunteers was almost enough to warm even the most frozen of souls. Yes, mine included.

    On site and out of the car my thoughts shifted to the contrails lining the sky. Immediately my cynical mind vacillated between gentle amusement and mild disappointment, as I knew this is the type of sky that makes the chemtrail crowd cry foul. Meanwhile all I’m trying to do is make a good shot. Find a good composition, make the frames, and call it a day. Here we can use the contrails to create strong leading lines in the photograph. Very simply the lines tell the eye where to look, operating as giant pointers for the viewer. And speaking of eyes, doesn’t that marsh tide pool look similar to our sight organ? It’s got a pupil and everything. Looking upward. The eye to the sky.

  • Grab Your Gear and Go Warmly

    Grab Your Gear and Go Warmly

    Shallow depth of field photograph modeling a canon body and hand knit fingerless gloves
    Grab Your Gear and Go Warmly — 50mm | f/1.8 | ISO 1000 | EXP 1/60

    I don’t like mail. It’s antiquated, burdensome, and resource intensive. Last week I liked mail. My dear friend ifmidnight sent over a pair of bad ass fingerless gloves she knit custom made for me! Spoiled much? While I was out in California visiting this past September she took my measurements and set to work. Fast forward a few weeks as I finally bust open a burgeoning mailbox burdened with neglect, a large squishy manila envelope shone through the din. My gloves! Eager I ran inside, opened—gasp!—my mail in a timely fashion, and put on my new gloves. A perfect fit!

    Taken with myself at the hands of this exceptional gift I grabbed my camera, popped on the fifty, made for the bathroom, and, and, . . . modeled? So yeah, that’s me up there trying to look cool in my newly acquired swag. In all seriousness, though these gloves will not go unused. My prime shooting season happens over winter, and having the gift of warmth as you’re staring in the teeth of a sea breeze while waiting on the sun in January is invaluable.

    In the interest of full disclosure no gloves were worn in the typing of this post.

  • Set Among Them

    Wide angle landscape photograph of phragmites and salt marsh at sunset
    Set Among Them — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/20

    Yesterday I posted what you could call the natural partner to today’s photograph—with all the same ingredients—a handheld shot of phragmites just after sunset. While the clouds front and center in yesterday’s offering were impressive, I think I prefer today’s rendition from an overall shot of the day standpoint. In case anyone is totally confused, today is Sunday and both photographs I’ve mentioned here were made on Friday afternoon, 6 November. More often than not I like to go with one posted photograph per session, but sometimes you come away with a few keepers to share.

    If I had to express what it is I like most about this photograph it would tie back to color, perspective, and movement. I’d also add a elevated sense of preference creeps in because of its departure from my standard workflow, as I discussed yesterday. Here again was another handheld shot, but also from a perspective I don’t regularly utilize. I was up close and personal with the phragmites, sitting among them with my lens no more than 3 feet from the ground and no more than a foot behind the plants at an angle of roughly 15 degrees above the horizon (I’m spitballing here). This coupled with a lazy enough shutter of 1/20 of a second and just enough wind able to create the areas of motion blur you see among the stalks, adding to the sense of place. Close your eyes and you just may hear the breeze.

  • The Other Side of Things

    Wide angle landscape photograph of pastel clouds over phragmites and marsh at sunset
    The Other Side of Things — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/30

    I went old school yesterday—making single bracket handheld exposures along Dock Road just around sunset. Gasp! I took a step back from the usual Tripod Only, Brackets Only, Sunset Only wide angle workflow to which I fall prey. Creature of habit and all. But sometimes you have got to break away.

    Yesterday afternoon offered the chance. Sunset was shaping up to be so-so at best.  So tasked with figuring out how best to salvage to shoot, I took a gander behind me to the northeast exposure and noted some detailed cloud shapes behind me. Photogenic clouds, even. Thinking these may color up when the sun slipped down, I disconnected camera body from tripod and walked across the street. And from there, directly opposite to my initial position, it went. A few purposeful exposures working in the invasive—albeit visually pleasing in the right light—phragmites as a foreground element. The shutter was lazy enough at 1/30 a second to produce a hint of movement in the pesky plants. I’ve got another shot from last night that I will post next that maximizes the movement and lines of the much maligned phragmites.

    The lesson? Always keep your head on a swivel. No need to jump right into the act of shooting. Take the time to scan your environment, observing the landscape from different angles. Break the mode and let go of the status quo.

  • Almost Again

    Wide angle HDR photograph of sunset over Barnegat Bay taken from LBI's Surf City Sunset Park
    Almost Again — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    There’s been a theme this week: sunsets that just miss. The ingredients are there—abundant multi level cloud decks, comfortable temperatures, and enough breaks in the clouds to give hope the sun just might slip through. Saturday was a just miss and Sunday wrought more of the same. While I still managed to walk away with some keepers it’s been hard to not feel left wanting. Even last night—and while I think this is a fine photograph—it could have been more. Yes, the sun managed to poke out just long enough to color up the sky for about 3 minutes, but an ill-timed rain shower put the kibosh on that. For a minute there I thought big time color was going to wash across the sky. Color on par with this past Monday’s. Color that of course I missed.

    Last night I visited Long Beach Island’s Sunset Park in Surf City, NJ. It’s a solid spot but it’s just about getting out of season. With the sun setting further to the south it’s creating some tough angles that offer up some compositional challenges. For reference, in late June the sun will set to the right of where the main bulkhead is pointing, offerings a more over the bay kind of perspective. It may be time to retire this locale from the sunset rotation until late spring. But that doesn’t mean I won’t be back for some wintertime action if the bay decides to freeze over as it has done the past two winters. We shall see.

    And before someone calls the wambulance on my sunset whining, I’m thankful this one managed to be as good as it was. Unlike Saturday and Sunday which seemed like slam dunks, yesterday’s (Thursday) conditions showed the least promise in terms of total cloud cover. Ebbs and flows and on it goes.

  • Sweeping Skies

    Wide angle landscape HDR photograph of wind swept clouds over still water at Stafford Forge
    Sweeping Skies — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    Here’s a holdover from Sunday. I’ve gotta be honest: I dismissed this out of hand, and didn’t even bother loading my brackets into Lightroom until today—Wednesday. Related: immediate uploading of the compact flash card into Lightroom as soon as I’m home is my usual standard operating procedure. The reason for my tardiness? I was annoyed the sun never got below such a promising cloud deck to light up the skies that I didn’t even bother to make something of my exposures. It was two days of back-to-back sunset busts, and I figured these shots were trash. I was wrong.

    Buried in here somewhere is a lesson in expectations. In hindsight I’m pleased with how this looks. Backlight by golden hour, the plentiful and sweeping clouds bring movement and good lines into the composition. And while I was hoping for great color to bounce off the mirrored reflection on the lake at Stafford Forge, days later and now I’m happy to make do with the photograph posted here before you. Even if I was standing on a peninsula of muck and disappointment. And speaking of great expectations—particularly ones that go unfulfilled—did any of you New Jersey people see what Monday had to offer? Talk about a top five sunset. Of course I was driving home from work and unable to capture what was certifiably an A+ sky. If I’m honest this light chaser is still cringing over that missed opportunity.

    So here’s to next time, lessons learned, and not letting expectations get in the way. Yeah right.

  • Please Step Forward

    Square format HDR landscape photograph of dock and bay at sunset
    Please Step Forward — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    Happy Halloween, you guys.

    Whew—with the obligatory holiday recognition out of the way I can move on to tonight’s photograph. I’m not gonna lie, I hemmed and hawed about posting this one. I’m pretty meh on this shot, but I’m struggling to pinpoint why. Is it because the shot itself is just a going through the motions kind of place holder photograph? Or is it because tonight’s sky seduced me into thinking it was going to color up one hell of a sunset? It’s hard for me to say but either way, here’s a photo I wouldn’t exactly write home about—of course here I am blogging about it so does that even make sense?

    It’s funny how the great sunsets work. They ride a razor’s edge of boom or bust. There needs to be enough cloud action present to render a truly standout sky, but get a few too many clouds extending beyond the westward horizon and it’s cloud out central. That was tonight’s Halloween story: a sky full of grey and pastels nowhere to be found. But even with the miss, this sort of show up and hold your breath approach adds to the excitement and reward of landscape photography. Not too unlike fishing.

    Onward to next time.

  • Subtlety in Familiarity

    Wide angle HDR landscape photograph of ominous clouds backlit by a pastel sunset at Antoinetta's Restaurant
    Subtlety in Familiarity — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    Fierce sky tonight, folks. Ominous. Brooding. Ever-changing. A fitting vibe on this the third anniversary of Superstorm Sandy. Context appropriate I made for an old standby location: Antoinetta’s Restaurant, down at the far east end of Cedar Run Dock Road in West Creek, NJ—an area that was beat up pretty bad from the storm. Now closed for the season, at least I think, this pointe will likely feature more regularly in my winter shooting rotation. So huzzah for that. For whatever reason I’ve had some great luck capturing dramatic skies from this spot. Perhaps none more dramatic than this. Or this.

    Not content to simply recreate an oft used composition from this location, I used what nature gave me. In this case? Puddles and some undulating sand—it should be noted I’m obsessed with this kind of sand pattern. It’s a personal Shangri-La I’m always keeping a keen eye for. But we all know sand is fleeting so it’s all about being in the right place at the right time. Either way this combination made for an interesting and complex foreground and thus I set myself and my trip up further back than usual. The key takeaway is this: even though we as shooters return to the same location over and over again doesn’t mean our shots ever have to be the same. Between the sky, natural processes such as erosion, the change of seasons, and even a little rain and/or tidal flooding can make all the difference in rendering subtle changes to seemingly familiar surroundings. No two photographs are ever the same no matter where you stand.

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  • Life Hangs On

    Low key cross processed macro photograph of an insect atop a daisy
    Life Hangs On — 100 mm | f/3.5 | ISO 400 | EXP 1/800

    I didn’t expect to see this today. Despite progress well into Fall I somehow have a path of thriving daisies in my backyard. I spied them unexpectedly today while making a quick pass through back there—about ten blossoms in all. More surprising was the amount of insect life teeming about the blossoms. Bees, flies, and some kind of beetle/yellow ladybug type thing; there must have been a dozen or so creepy-crawlies getting in a late season feed. Or maybe they’re just in calendar denial like me? I’m still wearing flip-slops after all. We’ve already dipped below freezing a couple times so this patch of my yard is demonstrating some unusual tenacity. Or maybe I’ve just never noticed the late season prowess of daisies and the requisite wildlife they sustain?

    Update: Hat tip to Jeff Ruemeli for being googler du jour and identifying this little flying fellow as a hoverfly.