Greg Molyneux Photography

Tag: 100mm

Made with a Canon EF 100mm f/2.8 Macro USM.

  • El Gato

    El Gato

    Black and white photograph of a tabby cat lounging outdoors.
    El Gato — 100mm | f/3.5 | ISO 400 | EXP 1/250

    Is #caturday still a thing? The hashtag phenomenon calling all cat people to all things cars on Saturday—you know a caturday? My yard calls to suburban furry creatures as an animated thicket beckons would be Disney characters to newborn prince. Ample cover, low level shrubs, plants, and flowers provide optimal feeding grounds for all kinds of neighborhood fauna. Birds, chipmunks, squirrels, raccoons, possum, and cats make themselves at home on the stomping grounds of my modest lot. Cats especially. Their hunting and lounging must be ideal as they loiter around my house daily. Having zero pets indoors, aside from some unwanted house spiders , it’s nice to see lively bustling about my lawn.

    I’m pretty sure the orange tabby cat photographed above belongs to one of my neighbors—he/she is in possession of a collar—but whose exactly? I am not sure. This guy likes to flop at the end of my driveway, butted up against the house close to where the chipmunks nest, only to leave as soon as I pull in to the drive and pop out the car. I’ll get a skeptical glance at the business end of about two seconds of serious eye contact as the cat scoots off on its way. A few weeks back while photographing some sedum, I found the cat brooding underneath a bush on the edge of my property. Mr. Cat unexpectedly decided to stay put allowing me to lay on the ground to make a few photographs featuring its nonplussed feline visage. This photograph reveals nicely the seriousness in its eyes—a driving uncertainty of mistrust dominating an urge to open up. The paw reaching forward further explains the narrative of this dichotomy. So Mr. Cat, while you are not mine you are more than welcome to my yard any time. (Not that you cared for my permission to begin with.)

    Interested in buying? Purchase

  • Pastel Pop

    Pastel Pop

    Macro photo depicting a reticulated pastel sedum bloom
    Pastel Pop — 100mm | f/3.5 | ISO 400 | EXP 1/400

    In taking a top-down approach we can process the world around us differently. This may be one of the most basic photographs I have posted to this site, and yet I find it endlessly captivating. It has a real watchability if you’ll allow me to use words that read like they don’t belong in a dictionary. Seriously, I fully anticipated the red-dotted line to appear under watchability—I would have lost any and all bets on that being a word. Anyway. I find myself mesmerized as I look down and into this image, losing myself for minutes at a time. Its tight reticulated pattern reminds of an autostereogram—those mind-melding 2-D images that are supposed to reveal a 3-D scene within its otherwise non-specific pattern. These drove me nuts as a kid. I can remember numerous class trips to several museums where we’d inevitably find ourselves in the obligatory gift shop where we’d one-by-one try our hand at discerning the image. My friends would undoubtedly make it work within a few minutes, and there’d I sit, dejected and unable to make out any kind of scene. My brain couldn’t get past the replicant TV snow presented in technicolor splatter. It always bummed me out as I feared my eyes and brain were somehow broken—somehow a failure of intelligent design. While I still can’t find any kind of image waiting to burst forth from this photograph, nor do I think there’s anything specific hiding in there, it sure is fun to look upon. Far less stressful than classmates bleating out, “there’s the horse! Can you see it, Greg? It’s right there!”

    Interested in buying? Purchase

  • Time Draws Near

    Time Draws Near

    Macro photograph of silver-spotted skipper butterfly feeding on sedum.
    Time Draws Near — 100mm | f/3.5 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/320

    Still under the influence of a post Makers Fest malaise I missed two great sunsets earlier this week. I must be slipping because it somehow didn’t bother me in the slightest. I was happily caught up in day job things and basking in last weekend’s festival success. However, a week sans camera has left me photo-less this weekend. As I sit inside on a drizzly Saturday morning waiting for a front to come, my ears listen to The Legend of Zelda remixes as my eyes fix their gaze on Lightroom—to a dozen or so macro shots I made on September 8. Nothing crazy, just some pictures of my front yard sedum bloomed and in its prime. Serendipitously a sliver-spotted skipper butterfly happened to drop on by for an afternoon snack. While not long for the flower tops I did manage to steal one suitable photograph of this fleeting creature; fall is coming and so too its time will end.

    Interested in buying? Purchase

  • Hosta Bloom

    Hosta Bloom

    Macro photograph of a single hosta blossom and its petals fading into smooth bokeh.
    Hosta Bloom — 100mm | f/3.5 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/160

    During my five minute photo jaunt at my parents’ house this past Fourth of July—just before I made this black and white hibiscus macro—I set my 100mm lens upon a plant I had known for years but to which I had not the pleasure of knowing its name. How rude? After quick a conversation with one in the know, my Mom, my ignorance was shed. Enter the hosta, legitimized by name. A wonderful broad leaf flowering plant wont to grow in close proximity to the ground while fanning out quite wide relative to its modest height. When the time comes it extends its blossom skyward from the center of its leafy body. This season my Mom’s hosta plants are blooming with gusto, and I’m most pleased with the delicate mood this macro photograph evokes. By design, selective focus keeps the sharpness limited the blossom’s apex, while its petals spread out and fade away into smooth, buttery bokeh.

    Interested in buying? Purchase

  • Darkest Light

    Darkest Light

    Low key black and white macro photograph of a hibiscus flower framed in vertical orientation.
    Darkest Light — 100mm | f/3.5 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/800

    It’s been a good long while since I’ve made a black and white photograph. A quick look at the archive reveals other than a onetime blip back in April, it had been since August of 2015 that I had made a proper black and white. Too long!

    Interestingly enough this photograph was yesterday’s output of no more than a five minute photo detour I took along my parents’ side yard before transitioning to camera-less Fourth of July activities. It’d be wrong to categorize the 16 exposures as throw-away shots, but I’d be lying if I said I knew I was going to walk away with at least three keepers from the brief session. The lighting seemed unremarkable and the wind was blowing just enough to frustrate any handheld macro shooter; and yet the results populating my Lightroom catalog run entirely to the contrary. (A good reminder that I still have plenty to learn.)

    I really like black and white, and I really like this shot. It’s sporting all the key ingredients required for a well executed black and white photograph—macro or otherwise. The composition is strong, moving the eye from the deep darkness of the bottom left corner up and through the stamen and pistils of the hibiscus flower. The selective focus adds moodiness and depth to the photograph, enhancing the sharpness of the pollen resting atop its anthers. But what really kicks this into black and white overdrive is the contrast; the dramatic shifts from near total black to the intensity and brightness of near total white. The image runs the grayscale gamut and locks away the final dimension necessary for a fine low key finished product.

    Oh, and check out this post if you’d like to learn more about the anatomy of a hibiscus flower. This will help clear up some of the flower parts I referenced in the paragraph above if you’d like to further your learning. The post features some solid macro photos, too! Related: I can’t believe this is the first hibiscus photograph I’ve posted in the now two and a half year history of this website. I would have definitely lost that bet…

    Interested in buying? Purchase

  • Stage Left

    Stage Left

    Macro photograph of a blue bottle fly atop a daisy petal.
    Stage Left — 100mm | f/3.5 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/640

    Time is weird, man. While I feel mired in quicksand, struggling to move in chronic slow motion I am juxtaposed by the fast moving reality that it’s July. In 2016. Or so I’m told. Somehow, somewhere, I’m still stuck in April 2006, but hey? Any Multiverse theorists want to take this on? So here I sit watching Nintendo Voice Chat pounding out a post on my computer one evening removed from the Fourth of July—my favorite holiday by the way. Even though overcast skies and incoming rain may put a damper on tomorrow’s firework festivities, I’ll embrace the fact the calendar is turned to the month added in honor of Julius Caesar. We’ve reached high summer—the Saturday of summer—as much as it doesn’t feel like it.

    Interested in buying? Purchase

  • Let’s Pollinate

    Let’s Pollinate

    Macro photograph of a blue bottle fly pollinating a daisy blossom
    Let’s Pollinate — 100mm | f/3.5 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/500

    With summer in full swing it’s high time to get back to my macro roots. In the front yard fresh daisies are in bloom affording the perfect opportunity to return to some good old fashion handheld camera fun. Macro work is a chance to get back to basics—a chance to ditch the tripod, ditch the bracketing, ditch the timer, ditch the routine to make some old school point and click shots. The other day a blue bottle fly came to visit, pollinating away on the fresh blossoms. Not easily scared the fly was more than willing to let me get up close and personal with my 100mm lens; these shots were made at a distance of roughly 12 inches from my subject—allowing me to bring the viewer right into the frame. Now I have to admit, shooting macro far less frequently these days I’m a little rusty, but I still made off with a few decent exposures. Practice, yo—I hear it makes perfect. More to come.

    Interested in buying? Purchase

  • The White Wizard Approaches

    The White Wizard Approaches

    High key black and white macro photo of a dying jane magnolia blossom looking like a hooded wizard
    The White Wizard Approaches — 100mm | f/3.5 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/250

    This is the second time I’ve dipped into the well of anthropomorphizing flowers in a high key macro photograph. While two times does not a trend make, I have a pseudo third example if you take the time my mid-bloom maple conjured thoughts of dragons—to be fair it was Game of Thrones time. For me this is when a dearth of landscape photo opportunities start gobbling up weeks at a clip on the calendar. Itching for some lens time I get a bit desperate—I default to selective focus macros of everyday objects floating both in and about my house. From there it’s just pouring over the exposures in Lightroom trying to find the right frame to do something with.

    In this case that something brought together a couple comfortable fall backs: black and white photography and Lord of the Rings. Today’s posted photo first caught my eye as I was processing yesterday’s Jane Magnolia pic. The wizard’s cap and flowing petals of this magnolia bud had just enough suggestion to get my attention. Upon closer inspection this morning the Gandalf connection struck immediately, and I could hear the why so serious? voice of Legolas Greenleaf warning his companions of an approaching Saruman. Of course moments later we are all treated to Gandalf’s triumphant return; cloaked in the garb of the White Wizard, bathed in white light having conquered the Balrog. Now back at the turn of the tide.

    Interested in buying? Purchase

  • Such is Life

    Such is Life

    Macro photograph of a dead Jane Magnolia blossom
    Such is Life — 100mm | f/3.5 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/250

    Unwelcome cold has crashed the Mid-Atlantic early spring party and brought its unsociable below freezing friends with it. After a well above average March, with temperatures readily exceeding the 70s and 80s, winter has stormed back with a vengeance laying waste to my Jane Magnolia bush. It was only a week ago I wrote about how pumped I was to finally have my Magnolia back in full bloom after years in absentia. But after a week of morning lows in the 20s here we are back in the tundra with dead flowers in its wake. So much for getting my hopes up—thinking I’d make bunch of macro photos of its lovely purple blossoms this year. At this point I am just hoping today’s rain, sleet, and snow is it for winter 2016. Let’s get on to spring. Again.

    Interested in buying? Purchase