Greg Molyneux Photography

Tag: 14mm

All photographs tagged here have been taken with a 14mm f/2.8 L II lens.

  • All Too Familiar

    All Too Familiar

    Wide angle landscape photograph of ominous storm clouds rolling over a lush green salt marsh
    All Too Familiar — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/80

    Hey, New Jersey! Maybe you’ve noticed it’s been raining? Or maybe you live under a rock? In which case you’ve more than likely been claimed by the Drowned God. It’s been over a week now and it seems to be the only weather we know. This photo is actually a throwback to April 26 when a pattern flipping cold front powered through the mid-Atlantic bringing strong storms and powerful straight line winds to the region. Since that day it seems we’ve been in omega block city—only we’ve been on the wrong side of said block. The cold, wet, raw side. Not exactly the pattern anyone wants in late-April, early-May. Unless of course a sea of endless grey is your thing. While it looks as though a few breaks in the clouds may appear over the next couple days, it seems we’re heading right back into the soup for much of next week. To modify the cliché, April flowers bring grey skies to May that never end. Welcome to Ireland, New Jersey.

    Heh, fittingly enough Jerry Garcia & David Grisman’s “Dreadful Wind And Rain” just randomly queued up on my iTunes as I finished paragraph one. If I could go back and do it all over again, I think that’s what I should have titled this shot. Alas, hooray for a fitting coincidence. Now where is that blasted Sun?

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  • Hasn’t It Always Been So?

    Hasn’t It Always Been So?

    HDR photograph of a pastel sunset at Stafford Forge Wildlife Management Area
    Hasn’t It Always Been So? — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    A sunset stopped by this past Monday while I was tucked away among the trees at Stafford Forge. The usual spots were occupied by human types, and the isthmus was flooded over by elevated lake levels. Short on time I buried myself in the trees along the lakeside.

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  • Disrupt

    Disrupt

    Wide angle photograph of an ominous shelf cloud storming over Barnegat Bay en route to Long Beach Island
    Disrupt — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/125

    Wild weather bore down on Surf City’s Sunset Park yesterday afternoon. I was fortunate enough to be out storm chasing with JC of Weather NJ fame, and we set up shop on a favorite Long Beach Island bay beach. With a dead west exposure over Barnegat Bay, winds were already ripping from the same direction, and a well defined shelf cloud was easily seen contrasted by the dark brooding cloud shadows behind it. Most striking, however, was the eerie green hue that illuminated the roiling bay water. It was an unnatural savage green, amped by full afternoon sun pouring in unfiltered from the south that was magnified as it bounced off the cumulonimbus cloud bottom. This, in effect, created lighting conditions that would be something akin to millions of pool table lights draped only feet over the bay. It was one heck of a sight. I’m sure my Snapchat followers could hear my excitement. (Not to mention a few expletives born of exuberance.)

    No less than two minutes after popping off the photo above, the gust front made landfall, temperatures dropped 20 degrees within 10 seconds (no exaggeration), and the winds went from about 35 mph sustained to ~60 mph. Severe storm criteria is defined as 58 mph winds or greater, and we were certainly there. Of course, the lion’s share of thunder and lightning slipped just to our north, but man it was fun being out there. Talk about a charge of energy. Here’s a short film JC shot to give you a sense of the sandblasting wind. (That’s me standing out there trying to capture cellphone footage.)

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  • Spring Marsh

    Spring Marsh

    Wide angle landscape sunset photo revealing spring's return to the marsh with the greening sedge
    Spring Marsh — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    I made my way to Cedar Run Dock Road Sunday evening. While I wasn’t greeted with the exact sunset I was hoping for, I was welcomed with surefire signs of Spring. Ospreys perched on their platform; various seabirds I cannot identify—an ornithologist I am not—plucking out easy meals in the friendly confines of harbored tide pools; and sparks of green signaling the sedge grass’ return to life. A sight for sore eyes all after months enduring the Great Browning. From here on out conditions on the marsh should only get better. The sedge will grow and thrive, providing ample cover for productive marsh habitat simultaneously becoming more picturesque. Before long tall waving grasses colored in deep rich greens will fill our foreground and middle ground. Good times.

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  • Run Out the Tide

    Run Out the Tide

    Golden hour photo of dead low tide at the Great Bay Boulevard salt marsh
    Run Out the Tide — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    Friday evening, about 20 minutes before I made this, some primetime golden hour light was pouring over the salt marsh along Great Bay Boulevard. Better yet, the clouds were decent with the tide dead low and dead calm. All signs point to decent photo making when these conditions are met.

    Compositionally my goal was to key off the remnant bulkheads—the roughly 1 foot in diameter stumps of wood you see aligned at an angle about the foreground—while conveying the extent of the dead low tide. To do this I kept my tripod higher than usual, putting the camera body about 5 feet off the ground, giving me enough angle on the marsh. More often than not I tend to get low and close when shooting wide angle—this makes closer objects appear more dramatic (re: large), but limits your ability to push the viewers eye depth further out toward the horizon. In other words, if I was crunched down here as usual, the tidal exposed marsh and the still water to its right would appear as much thinner strips. However, the bulkheads would be given much more visual weight. These are the kinds of decisions you have to make when you approach a scene. What am I trying to convey? And then, perhaps more importantly, what concessions do I have to make to achieve said conveyance? This is where I cannot advocate trail and error experimentation enough in an era of digital.

    But it’s not all faeries and roses here. Due to the extreme angle I placed the sun—setting it to the outer sixth of the frame—chromatic aberration and lens flare marks the horizon from right to left in several spots. While I’m not sure if it’s a bad thing, I’m fairly certain it’s not a good thing. Ultimately I will leave this up to the subjectivity of the viewer. At the very least I should concede this effect was not intentional.

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  • Machinations of a Pastel Sky

    Machinations of a Pastel Sky

    Landscape photograph of pastel clouds over marsh at sunset
    Machinations of a Pastel Sky — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    For southeast New Jersey peeps a vantage to the north and east had it going on at sunset last night. Bailing on the traditional west by southwest exposure at sundown—which had nothing doing but clear skies—I did a 180 and posted up on the north side of Dock Road. A whole 20 foot walk from my usual spot. Whew! From there I let nature do the work. Admittedly I had a bit of trouble centering on the turning waterway while keep some rouge elements of the guardrail out of the foreground. With a little fiddling of tripod height adjustments I made it work. After that it was all just pushing buttons.

    Heading into yesterday’s shoot on what was 4 March, I had been in a bit of a dry spell. I hadn’t been out doing the photo thing since 16 February, when coincidentally another striking east facing sunset took shape. Landscape photography is full of peaks and valleys; hot streaks and dry spells. When you’re at the mercy of weather, timing, and real life responsibilities, opportunities to shoot come and go. As tedious as it may become at the tail end of an extended hiatus, the reward of a steady supply of great light makes the wait bearable. If nothing else photography is a lesson in control—insofar as we ain’t gonna have it.

    In other photography news: I picked up a long overdue 35mm lens yesterday. Fifth Prime I’m calling it as it joins my 14mm, 40mm, 50mm, and 100mm as the fifth prime lens in my bag. I’m excited to see what new opportunities this long coveted piece of glass affords me. I’m even thinking of dabbling in some people photography with this at my side—it will be interesting to see if this actually materializes.

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  • Worse for Wear

    Worse for Wear

    =Sunset photograph overlooking Barnegat Bay and a decrepit bulkhead
    Worse for Wear — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    Eastern facing sunsets some days sing supreme—and while yesterday’s western exposure was a fast moving fiery red, it was to the pastel east that I focused my gaze. With the tide well up access to Barnegat Bay Beach was out of the question, eliminating any hope I had of working the wave runner jetty into my frame. Scanning for alternatives this derelict bulkhead—seemingly none too old but certainly in disrepair—thrust up its hand, eagerly volunteering as a workable foreground. The missing boards and rusted nails made a suitable fallback, and as I was dialing in the frame the grain pattern on the support poles had me mesmerized. The pole to the right in particular with its almost camouflage pattern array. A smattering of seagrass even found itself snagged upon the remnant nails. There’s just a ton of neat little things going on in there if you stop to take a closer look.

    The strength of this photograph is all about balance. Composed of a largely symmetrical foreground squared up perpendicular to the bay and horizon. To the sky there’s a high pastel cloud deck, emblazoned pink that’s largely being blocked out by the fast moving low-level cumulus clouds that came racing overhead from west to east. For about 2 minutes they colored up just enough with a touch of red upon their underbelly. I’m torn as to whether these clouds were a welcome addition to my frame, or if they’re more accurately described as an ill-timed guest. They certainly bring some drama in the form of shape and contrast, but at the same time they blocked out what would have been a potent light show at the higher cloud levels to the east. For a time there were hints we’d replicate the eastern sunset from The Great Gig in the Sky, but in the end the timing wasn’t quite right. Embrace the chaos thusly.

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  • Where do we go from here?

    Where do we go from here?

    Blue hour photograph taken among marsh grass at a frozen Stafford Forge
    Where do we go from here? — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    Tucked in among the lifeless grasses, cloistered from the outside world though hardly sheltered from its inhospitable cold, I made my stand—kneeling. With an icy tripod widened and set to its lowest setting, I was low and I was close to a wee bit of opening—revealing a low level glimpse out to the frozen lake of Stafford Forge. With the sunset sky failing to produce much drama I fell back to making the most of the scene I was given; and it’s a shot I’ve made before. Sometimes you’ve just got to work with what you’ve got.

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  • The Cold Will Roll

    The Cold Will Roll

    Sunset photograph of salt marsh just frozen over
    The Cold Will Roll — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/125

    It’s on, New Jersey. True arctic air is rolling across the Northeast and Mid-Atlantic and with it comes a polar left hook of cold to the jaw of we the lower latitude dwellers. While the bays remain open water for now, the marshes have begun the inescapable transition to pop-up ice world. In the face of possible subzero temperatures overnight I imagine said bays will not be far behind. This is a not so welcome reminder of the powerful cold we squared off against in winter’s 2014 and 2015. Fortunately this cold snap will not have that kind of staying power.

    In the face of biting cold and stiff wind I simplified my shooting workflow tonight. There was no tripod. There was no bracketing. With steady gusts over 30 mph, stability and warmth was a factor. With that I had a go with some old school single bracket handheld shooting. Aided by a frozen marsh I was able to get up close and personal with the tide pool above. On my knees from right at the water’s edge, bringing the viewer right into the sunset action. Juxtapose this with a very similar shot I made earlier this month from this spot where I am set farther back, with the camera several feet higher. Notice how the perspective and intimacy change over the span of only a few feet? I prefer tonight’s tucked in look.

    From now through Sunday we let the cold air roll. May it bring the deep purple sky I long for.

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