Greg Molyneux Photography

Category: Blog

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

  • Your day breaks

    Your day breaks

    An HDR sunrise photograph overlooking the dunes, dune fence, ocean and sand of 13th Street in Ship Bottom, NJ.
    Your day breaks — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    I’m not exactly a morning person so it’s not everyday I buck-up, pop the cot and go shoot a sunrise. But with a fellow photo buddy in town it’s a little easier to find the motivation.

    Conditions were pretty excellent this morning, comfortable temperatures with a cool early day glow left me thinking I’m real excited to be here. I spent my initial shooting going for the obligatory up against the shoreline shot. This was decidedly meh. The jetty rock I thought would be there had not so amusingly vanished, and there was nothing passable for an interesting foreground. When my buddy Jon walked over and showed me some shots he was making on his viewfinder, I saw he was making good use of the dune fence as foreground and I decided then I was going to follow his lead.

    Enter the shot before you.

    The swooping cloud formation, for me, creates a most interesting effect. It has the look of a crescent moon that’s dominating the daybreak sky, pressing its weight and looming ominously. Counterbalanced by the movement and lines of the foreground dune fence it makes for a well balanced scene. Getting up early was worth it.

    Related: I spent three great summers (2003–2005) manning the tools of ignorance for Ship Bottom, NJ Public Works. Three great summers of stretching dune fence. Every season we’d be replacing broken fence and even running whole sections of the stuff for blocks. Nothing like spending your days with your buddies, a couple pairs of post hole diggers, and some dune fence. It was simple labor but it always paid off going home each day having made real tangible results toward keeping our beaches clean and beautiful. Plus we got to see the sunrise each day. I miss that job.

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  • A subtle loss of clarity

    A black and white photograph taken by Manahawkin, NJ, photographer Greg Molyneux of the south facing marshes of Great Bay Boulevard in Little Egg Harbor Township.
    A subtle loss of clarity — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/15

    Yesterday—this being posted a day late—was shaping up as one of those sunsets that look good on paper. A quick look out the window 90 minutes prior to the sun’s scheduled egress looked promising; bountiful clouds with dramatic bottom-side shadows littered the sky. I was pleased. Yet as it has done so many times before, the fickle clouds made their final escape no less than a half hour prior to sundown, leaving a blank canvas of deepening blue sky.

    Disappointed? Maybe a little. But I still liked what I saw. I had a suspicion my location and the clear sky color gradient would make for a more than serviceable black and white. After a few test shots trying to make something out of nothing I abandoned the tripod and took the camera in my hands. Occasionally I do this thing in the fading light where I move my hands across the horizon from left to right as a lazy shutter—1/15 of a second in this case—makes its exposure. This creates a softened blur that if you’re lucky enough evokes its own kind of whimsy.

  • A homecoming of sorts

    Manahawkin, NJ, photographer Greg Molyneux's HDR photograph of Holgate, NJ at sunset. This HDR photograph overlooks the Edwin B. Forsythe National Wildlife Refuge
    A homecoming of sorts — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 3 Bracketed Exposures

    The prodigal son returns. Or the fool finds his roots. Or whichever yarn you’d like to spin this is where it all began. Just north of two years back I embarked on what would become my photographic journey—right here at this very spot in Holgate, New Jersey. Only I didn’t know it at the time. That one innocent photowalk down a section of the eastern shore of the Edwin B. Forsythe Wildlife Refuge on one a seasonably warm New Year’s Day; that one innocuous macro shell and here’d I be two years and some forty thousand picture later blogging about it on my own photography website. Sometimes life is strange.

    As I made my way around the refuge today it dawned on me just how much territory on this isthmus there is to explore despite the fact that access on the bayside western shore is restricted to protect the wildlife. I stopped for a second to chat with a local, an elderly gentleman who noted the southern tip of the refuge made its way three miles to the south where a micro sized Atlantic City looms. For another day, I quipped. Short on daylight, and therefore time, I made my way back to the jetty rock. Jetty rock that had been laid waste by years of violent storms—Sandy of course topping the list.

    It was here that I made my stand. Here that I made my shot for this story. Here I shall return for future sunsets as this locale offers both potential and an important link to the past.

  • Whatever title you like

    An HDR photograph of a Great Bay Boulevard sunset by Manahawkin, NJ, photographer Greg Molyneux. In this photograph the sun sets next to an abandoned boat dock.
    Whatever title you like — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    First things first—I’m not in love with this shot. I’m not even sure I like it. I made my way to Great Bay Boulevard with a specific location and an already framed shot in mind. You see, I had already conceived a shot on my during my last trip to Great Bay Boulevard; only I was clouded out and unable to shoot. It was this that setup I had in mind with tonight’s more favorable sky conditions in mind. All of this is notable considering I seldom do much active mental planning regarding my shots. While I often revisit familiar places, I try to let the moment dictate the composition.

    When I arrived on scene I immediately knew I was hosed. A floating dock had rammed its way up the boat ramp—the spot I was already planning to setup shop. None of this was surprising considering the powerful Nor’easter that blew through here yesterday. I should have expected as much.

    What you see above is Plan B. And a haphazard plan at best. I don’t think I spent enough time finding the best composition at my location. More scouting will be required in the future. Nevertheless the sky colors did not disappoint, and it just felt good to be back out shooting again. It had been five days and I was getting stir crazy. Especially with all the potential snow my area just missed out on.

    Related to this evening’s photos shoot, I ran into a fellow sunset chaser. He was a Nikon shooter and I didn’t catch his name, but he was out taking in the departing sun as well. As we were both wrapping up he took note of the still unseen-to-me rising full moon over the marshland that was previously at our backs. Once I fixed my gaze I was instantly transfixed. Alas I have no telephoto. Fortunately he did and here’s to hoping he got off a great shot.

  • Snow noir

    A black and white abstract photograph of a street light with falling snow. Shot with plentiful bokeh in a film noir style. Taken by Manahawkin, NJ, photographer Greg Molyneux.
    Snow noir — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 5000 | EXP 1/40

    Nighttime snow will forever mean one thing: incessant checking of the streetlights for evidence—and intensity—of falling snow. Snow lovers know what I’m talking about.

    This winter has been somewhat vexing. There’s been plenty of snow but not enough opportunity for my camera and me to exploit it. With tonight’s passing clipper, I was not to be stopped. Even if it meant a quick jaunt to the streetlight one house down. But hey?

    With one quick exposure into moderately falling snow and a streetlight I’ve gazed up at so many times before, my camera made real what my mind imagined. I knew immediately this was destined for a very deep sepia treatment and one cool outcome. I hope you enjoy.

  • The path before me

    The path before me

    A sunset HDR photograph taken along Cedar Run Dock Road in Manahawkin, NJ, by local photographer Greg Molyneux
    The path before me — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    The Winter of the Great Sunset™ continues. Snow and cold be damned, the sky has been putting on a show this season. Seriously, though? Who am I kidding? I love the snow. Anyway…

    I returned to my tried and true Dock Road location to take advantage of the sun’s angle in the southwestern sky. While I’ve made shots from this location scores of times before, I wanted to find a slightly different take composing the scene—and by slightly different take I mean more visually pleasing; an arrangement that naturally fosters eye movement throughout the image.

    To achieve this end I kicked the legs out wide—getting nice and low—and pulled my tripod back a few feet. This brought the small rock and sand that now marks the foreground into the frame, creating a nice starting point to guide your attention throughout the photograph.

    I’m pleased I found this shooting position. I’ll certainly be revisiting in the future.

    I hope you enjoy.

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  • I’ll leave you when the summertime

    An HDR photograph of the marsh at sunset taken by photographer Greg Molyneux on Great Bay Boulevard in Little Egg Harbor, New Jersey
    I’ll leave you when the summertime — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    Since I was already down in Little Egg Harbor visiting with friends today, Great Bay Boulevard always hung in the back of my mind as the likely landing spot for tonight’s obligatory sunset chasing. I say obligatory if only because a) it’s a Saturday in winter—rending me home from work—and b) the setup looked favorable all day.

    We found our general area and I began investigating as to where I’d eventually plant myself and my tripod. While meandering about the shoreline excellent light was holding sway out over the marsh and my mood was good. This is always a favorite part of the experience for me—framing the shot and appreciating the waning light of day. Always take a moment to step back from the viewfinder to take it all in.

    I positioned myself precariously on some loose fitting jetty rock, or some facsimile of a lesser jetty rock. Regardless, it felt like a twisted ankle waiting to happen but served up the best view angle as far as I was concerned. Potential falls be damned, I set up the camera and tripod and began making the above photograph. It’s a composite of seven exposures later merged for processing in Photomatix Pro and Lightroom. I hope you enjoy.

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  • Ben Wurst, Dialed In

    Photographer and reclaimed wood extraordinare sends out a text to Joe.
    Dialed in — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/60

    It’s not often I photograph people. In fact, it’s pretty damn rare. However, while awkwardly positioned and semi-inverted, I fired off this shot while Ben was texting out our location to friends while we were setting up for sunset at the Stafford Forge Wildlife Management Area this past Sunday.

  • Out where we cannot be

    Out where we cannot be

    A dark sepia HDR photograph of a frozen wetland of the Stafford Forge Wildlife Management Area taken just before sunset
    Out where we cannot be — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    I got wet today folks. That’s right, I did what we shan’t do and fell through the ice. Levy any and all criticisms here, and yes I was immediately reminded of what we all learned from our parents as children. Now, while I was very near to shore and hardly in peril, the ordeal was still a bit of a stunner. Between the freezing temperatures as my right leg plunge down to the knee or my discarded camera and tripod, my immediate attention was to my camera, lens, and their collective well being. Frost bite be damned, I’ve dropped this pair once before and was having not so great flashbacks—I didn’t have time to be fretting over a wet foot. As it turns out, the camera and lens seem fine despite the fixed lens hood acting as something of a snow plow. But I digress.

    Fractured ice aside, I had a blast shooting with Ben Wurst of Reclaimed today. We took advantage (mostly) of the unusually cold temperatures and ventured out on foot over wetlands we’d otherwise never have access to. While we were clouded out at the key moment rendering the idyllic sunset palette a bit stale, the array of clouds made for an interesting composition; made all the more dramatic with the dark sepia treatment. This is a composite of seven exposures to extract the great dynamic range from the scene.

    With any luck if the cold stays, I can avoid falling in and successfully return to this spot for a more winter stunning sky.