More Sunday action, people. One more to go and then I can finally move on from last week. As far as the sequence of shots goes, this was the first photo made. Before the rainbow and before the sunset I first posted. Rain was just starting to fall and I was enthralled by the orange glow bouncing off the stormy cloud deck. All was awash in orange, and while I was left to hide under gazebo cover as the rains came I made this handheld shot. (Hence the ISO 400 to get the exposure time up to 1/30—no tripod for this one.)
What drew me to this composition, aside from notable light, was the symmetry of the scene. While I try to bring balance to all my shots it’s rare when I center up all the key elements of the frame. That’s essentially what we have here—with the sun just a tick to the left of center. It’s a soothing shot. A calming photograph leaving behind two empty benches to fill in with your own story.
From One End To The Other — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
Kicking it back to Sunday again. With light so good you know there’s gonna be at least a few photographs posted from what was a jaw-dropping 15 minute light show. With rain once again falling as the final moments of sun pulsed through a narrow opening in the cloud deck to the west an eastbound and down rainbow was all but inevitable. One quick turn to the oceanside and there it was—arcing majestically over Long Beach Island homes bathed in rich gold. With the pulse rate thumping I did the best I could to capture the rainbow while staying under just enough Sunset Park gazebo coverage to keep my lens dry. I’m not going to sit hacking away at letters on a wireless keyboard pretending this is the kind of composition I would have wanted, but considering the circumstances—notably falling rain and a ticking rainbow clock—this is the best I could muster. And so it goes, shot number two from Sunday. At least one or two more still to come.
The Home Fire Still Burns — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/5
Sunday began what is now day four in a stretch featuring potent storms, dramatic clouds, and fiery sunsets. While I’ve been tied down and largely unable to shoot, it’s been impossible to miss what has to be the best consecutive stretch of sky goodness in recent memory. New Jersey based social media accounts have been set afire with countless jaw-dropping photographs for the better part of a week. Thanks to ubiquitous smartphone adoption the degree of documentation has sailed far beyond unprecedented levels. Everyone is a photographer now, and I think it’s is great. Scrolling through my Instagram feed this week has been a total treat.
Above is my small contribution for the week. This photograph was made at Surf CitySunset Park on Sunday evening. Strong to severe storms were powering across the mid-Atlantic, bringing strong winds and heavy rainfall. Unfortunately the line fizzled just as it made its way to the coast. While a proper shelf cloud never materialized over Barnegat Bay, it was becoming readily apparent the clearing would time up perfectly with sunset. My friends and I bailed from our Barnegat Light thunderstorm position and made our way south into Surf City. From there it all came together. To the east was a properly majestic double rainbow backlit by a stunning array of pink storm clouds. To the west, a potent sunset stretched across the sky. So powerful was the light differential from sun to storm clouds that auto white balance was rendered effectively useless; leaving RAW files cast in a strong purple hue if left untouched. When this extreme is achieved you know you are in the presence of some properly dramatic light play. For me, I was simply dumbfounded; left holding my gear, smiling ear to ear.
This is the Time — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/20
Well folks, we made it. Another Memorial Day Weekend is upon us. The unofficial start of summer for we the people of the LBI Region. A time when hopes and dreams reach their zenith. School is ending. Love is fresh and life is in full bloom. Temperatures rise along with the excitement of a summertime full of memories to be made. Personally the stretch of days that run from Memorial Day Weekend up through and including the Fourth of July represents my absolute favorite portion of the Gregorian calendar. Hands down. I cannot—I will not!—be moved from this position. The days are long and the nights are full of wonder. While it may not be my best stretch for photos, it is a lifelong love affair with this time of year that far and away predates my time as Camera Man. It lifts me greatly from my usual anxiety fueled disposition. Let’s make this summer great. Let’s be kind to one another; let’s hit the beach; and let’s get out there and support our local businesses that rely so heavily on a productive summer season. We can do it. We can set the stage for a good time had by all. We can make it happen.
Kicking it back to Monday evening, back to Ship BottomSunset Point. (That’s two shots in a row!) Only this time I tried my hand with vertical orientation—or portrait orientation—camera work. Unlike run-of-the-mill horizontal orientation, it’s a technique that doesn’t come easy to me; but it’s hard to argue with its intrigue—particularly at wide angles. I think it works best when you have low level foreground with which to get up close and personal. From there angle your frame such that you have roughly two-thirds of the ground composed and you are good to go.
Now for some self-critique: I may have gotten a little too close to my foreground. My mistake is betrayed by the loss of focus in the very bottom section of the frame. Had I been more aware I could have 1) backed my tripod up another inch or two, or 2) stopped down to f/16 or f/22. I typically don’t like stopping down that much as it does start to diffuse your photograph’s overall focus. It does, however, widen the overall acceptable field of focus. Trade-offs, man. It’s all about trade-offs.
Monday night after doing the 9–5 thing I made my way to Ship BottomSunset Point. It had been a while since I did some photo things from this Long Beach Island location. It’s a cool little spot nestled bayside, and it holds a tender place in the Greg Molyneux memory bank. For three seasons (2003-2005) I spent my summer days working for Ship Bottom Public Works. Great times with great friends, and a cool full time staff of dudes to boot. I learned a lot those three summers, and I miss it from time-to-time.
Walking through the park my mind was oscillating back and forth between the then and now; first considering how well manicured and pruned up the park is, then panning to past memories and an unavoidable lament of where the hell the time has gone? Life is full of these moments I suppose. Past. Present. Future. Events and people long gone. This wasn’t a sad experience, however. Instead there was an upwelling, an appreciation for the opportunity and for the good times had by all. May the joys of youth forever shine.
Say Goodbye Don’t Follow — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
Easily the best scene/lighting/sunset/awesomesauce combo since this and this happened back in early December 2015. Six months, folks. The good stuff doesn’t come around all too often; and that is precisely what makes this hobby worthwhile. The hunt. The chase. The busted failures en route to most welcomed and ofttimes unexpected successes. Landscape photography is a great, albeit fickle beast, you guys.
Ocean County, New Jersey was socked in rain for most of the day on Friday, but Mr. Weather NJ was on top of things. A look at the frontal passage on the water vapor loop let him know the break in the weather would more than likely time up well with sunset. Little did we know it’d be perfect. Serendipity, folks, it’s necessary when you’re photographing nature. We’ve gotta be there, sure; Mother Nature, however, has to bring the goods. That’s how it played out last night amidst the dank air of Cedar Run Dock Road. A multilayered cloud deck began to pull apart, and light poured through as we watched said clouds ignite into an array of pastel beauty. Combine that with the dying wind that brought a glass sheen to the surface of the waterway and you’re cooking with all the right ingredients for a real deal fist-pumper.
Chilling on scene with Jeff and Jon we spent a good 45 minutes in relative silence and maximum awe. The only thing that cut through the silence was a loan boater that came creeping through—no wake zones are important, thanks for going slow—leaving perfect wrinkles upon what was moments before pristinely flat water. The look of the subtle waves left in his wake was mesmerizing. Pink and purple prisms moving eastward as though a table cloth was most gently removed from a grand table with the steady hand of years of precision. Better yet was the jam the young dude on the center console had blasting over the marsh. Whatever that slow jam was, I dig it. In fact, we spent the better part of the night fireside at Ben’s trying to puzzle out the tune. Alas.
Within the quieted moments of sunset fulfillment I’m want to reflect on the ephemeral nature and never ending quest for the perfect sky. These moments come and go. Hold onto them as they arise, drop them as the leave. From there, with a smile on your face move on and work toward the next great moment. There’s a zen in all this infinitely worth seeking even when you’re kicking yourself during the next 10 busts.
Please Don’t Go — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
Mid-Atlantic folks know the sun has been scarce lately. Vacationing somewhere known as Not Here. And while it’s raining as I type the sun did show its face last night at Stafford Forge Wildlife Management Area. It was so nice. Lord, it was lovey-dovey. With the Forge unpopulated and the winds calm, glassy mirrored reflections were the order of the day. The perfect medium for bouncing pastel color illuminating cotton candy clouds. These are restorative moments, people. The doses of goodness that sustain us through the daily grind and ofttimes madness of the world. Let us be mindful of all that is great and right in this world.
Max Relax — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
Between the hour of 7:20 p.m–8:20 p.m. Cedar Run Dock Road was the unequivocal place to be for denizens of southern Ocean County. Conditions were perfect. I’m talking A+. 10 out of 10. Would do again. And folks, I’m not even talking about the sunset. It was one of those salt marsh nights you’re more than like to read about it a book. An evening that comes around maybe a handful of times per year. Room temperature conditions with zero wind, fully absent humidity; bugs nowhere to be found; crips, clear golden light pouring over the emerald green sedge grasses; with migratory birds making way with their evening meal. Pure perfection. Maximum relaxation achievement unlocked. That sunset? While beautiful and serene in its own right was little more than icing on the cake.
