Greg Molyneux Photography

Tag: 14mm

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

Cold Milestone
Cold Milestone — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
Anyone in the mid-Atlantic who even bothered to step foot outside today will find no shocking revelation in my declaration of today’s cold. Sure it was below freezing all day, but holy cow did the biting cold and piercing winds level up out on the marsh of Cedar Run Dock Road. The wind ripping across a rapidly freezing marsh plane was eye watering and hand destroying. Not even some impromptu jumping jacks were making a difference. It was no fun touching the cold metal of my tripod, clumsily thumbing the extension latches to unfurl the legs. But these are of course the chilled hazards of the job.
In hindsight extending the tripod legs wasn’t even necessary. This evening turned into one of those shoots where I wound up going with my very first set of brackets. This exposure was made with the camera and tripod low to the ground; tucked into the frozen marsh grass to draw the viewer into the scene. A big part of why I’m posting this shot is because it’s the only set of brackets that still had enough sunlight to catch the pink glow painting the frozen edge of the marsh grass. Thus bringing visual warmth to a scene that was otherwise and quite literally devoid of it. Those sunbeams didn’t hurt, either.
Celebrating Two Years
Fun bit of housekeeping: this here website is celebrating its second birthday today. Since I first uploaded Beyond the Gray Sky two years ago I’ve added 240 photographs good for 232 posts. I’m beyond pleased with my small little home on the internet, and I hope you’ve enjoyed my modest contribution to what I hope is solid internet content. Here’s looking forward to a promising third year. Thank you.
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January 18, 2016
Weather Ahead
Weather Ahead — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/50
Let’s talk about the weather, Mid-Atlantic. In case you hadn’t heard there’s a potential snow storm looming, turning its tentative gaze toward the weekend. But first, proceed with caution. It’s been a tough winter for snow lovers, and we would do well to consider the unreliable performance of operational models of late. Despite a conducive pattern for coastal storm development we’ve seen one promising event after another appear, disappear, only to reemerge late in the game sending cutter after cutter into the Great Lakes. Whereas today we saw a storm widely thought to be out to sea, hang close enough to the coast to bring a mostly unexpected 1–3″ of snow to southeastern New Jersey—with an even bigger hit along the Delmarva. Were it not for marginal temperatures just above freezing this would have been a major bust. Suffice to say, faith in the models has been tested, and we should all feel justified in our skepticism. Of course there’s a lesson in here: despite improving datasets, more powerful processing, and better defined atmospheric dynamics there’s still plenty to get wrong in forecasting. We’re still a ways from perfect and that’s perfectly okay.
Tempered emotions aside, it’s tough not to get a least a wee bit excited for this weekend. Some factors driving our optimism? Consistent plotting of the storm on the major weather models for at least the past 48–72 hours; we’re now progressing well into mid-range forecasting (less than 120 hours out); and most importantly, the pattern at 500mb looks favorable. Tonight’s 00z runs will be huge, and weenies (a term for weather enthusiasts like me who know just enough about weather to be dangerous) will be staying up late on this Martin Luther King, Jr. weekend waiting for the Euro. While it’ll be fun to get caught up in the excitement, we should at least wait until Tuesday when this storm is properly sampled. Said sampling allows real data to be input into the model algorithms, ensuring much greater accuracy as the models will be relying on fewer unknowns/hypotheticals. By then if the trends still look good it’ll be game on and milk and bread memes will be in full effect. In the meantime, stay tuned to Weather NJ for the latest.
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January 17, 2016
These Are Your First Steps
These Are Your First Steps — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
Made my way into Barnegat this evening. Deep into Jonathan Carr territory to meet up and shoot a sunset. Arriving late and short on time, I was sweating it from intersection to intersection impatiently watching pastel pink clouds glow to the north and east knowing this color only had minutes of life. On arrival I found Jon set up pointed west, buried in a patch of phragmites. With nods of acknowledgment I quickly parted ways to check the bayside and noticed a perfect foreground element exposed in the dead calm low tide of Barnegat Bay—a jetty of sorts just waiting to be framed. Combine this with a pink-purple cast to the sky as blue hour hour is setting in and you start feeling pretty damn good about yourself.
From here I set to work on dialing in the composition. The calmness and cool color tones were evoking a mood of serenity and space. I wanted to key on this and maintain as much negative space as possible; leaving the viewer room to breathe to take in the sights, imagine the sounds, and feel the openness of the setting. This photograph wasn’t going to be about vibrant colors, dramatic cloud shapes, or intricate details fulling up a composition. Instead it was going to be about space, softness, and simplicity. I’m pleased with the outcome.
It’s only January, but I wouldn’t be surprised if this winds up on my list of 2016’s best. This was one of those shoots where you just know while you’re out there that you’re capturing something good and making it your own. You know there’s that little something extra that makes it stand above most of your other shoots. It’s all part of the reward and fun of this great hobby. Timing wise this worked out, this was a brand new spot for me and it sure did deliver. As for the title? Yeah it’s a Star Wars reference.
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January 14, 2016
For Colton
For Colton — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
This evening my cousin and his wonderful wife welcomed their first child to the world. A happy, healthy boy named Colton. He’s only been around for a few hours now and he’s already proudly sporting a foreboding Molyneux head. Suffice it to say today was a good day. Knowing the labor battle began early this morning odds were good the latest addition to our family would make its arrival today. I use its only because until the time of birth we were all in the dark on the sex—though my gut was telling me it was a boy the whole time. The gift of hindsight now makes my prognostication air tight.
With good karma filling the air and frontal boundaries driving the air, I had a strong sense the universe was on my side for producing an all out drama light show. The universe for its part delivered. We had rain showers develop overhead. We had complex cumulus cloud structures turning and tearing as the first front moved through. We even had rainbows. The sky was a fast paced play, with Cedar Run Dock Road its stage, and Jon Carr and I its captive audience. I kept remarking to Jon over and over that tonight was about as good a period of 60 minutes of light play that I could remember. With no exaggeration there were great exposures to be made in any and all directions. Conditions were that good. As far as I’m concerned this was all Colton—Molyneuxs know how to make an entrance—and Colton arrived about an hour or so after I exposed this photograph. This was how you finish what started off as a dark, rainy January day.
Welcome, cousin. I cannot wait to meet you and watch you grow. Love you, buddy. To Tiffany and Daniel: congratulations, you guys. You’re going to be tremendous parents. Today was a good day.
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January 10, 2016
Here Again
Here Again — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/60
Happy New Year
It was my first time back at it in 2016. Yesterday I ventured out to Dock Road and returned to The Eye to photograph a sunset. Conditions were hardly perfect, but I sure had the itch to get out and shoot. It had been a while. Driving out on the marsh I was immediately surprised by the ice. While it’s been cold these past few days it never crossed my mind that it was cold enough to freeze the brackish water of the marsh over the course of a 48 hour arctic outbreak. But here we are. A nice bonus as it brings the proper seasonal feel to the marsh. It’s a joy of mine to document its temporal changes and the pictures left behind serve as a nice little timestamp at a place defined by flux.
Follow Along
Quick reminder! If you’re on Instagram of Facebook you can easily follow along with my pictures there. Instagram followers get an added bonus as I share my mobile photography there as well—nothing taken with my cellphone has yet to appear on this site.
Shop News
Since recently launching my online shop I’ve decided to make most, if not all, of my photographs available for purchase from this point forward. Considering we all enjoy different things and should thereby celebrate our personal subjectivity I hope to have something for everyone. This should also ease the burden of potential customers having to reactively reach out to ask to have their favorite shot added. So let’s give this a try!
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January 8, 2016
But wait, there’s more!
But wait, there’s more! — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
While I already posted my 2015 retrospective last Thursday, I have to say this photograph would have garnered at minimum a passing consideration for the best of list. The depth and definition in the clouds of yesterday’s sunset sky was something else; undulating clouds positioned at multiple levels set the stage for dramatic interplay of light and shadows. The whole scene started out pretty mundane but once the sun dropped below the horizon a slow but steady pastel pulse colored in the clouds over the next 10 minutes. Soon the whole of the sky was ablaze. Wisps of stretched cotton candy stretched and pulled in the atmosphere winds setting the backdrop for the low-level cloud deck you see encroaching from the right, just above the horizon in an intimidating Star Destroyer lurch.
Taking a step back my hope is that this sky opens the gate for the glory of winter sunsets. This color was associated with a frontal boundary that finally brought seasonal temperatures to the mid-Atlantic. We’ve been impossibly warm this December and while some unplanned warmth is sure to prolong flip-flop season, it’d be nice to get some arctic air drama lighting up the sky as it did yesterday afternoon on Dock Road. Polar Vortex I implore you.
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December 28, 2015
Lookout Landing
Lookout Landing — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
Does this count as self portraiture? I’m not certain but this may count for salvaging a sunset shoot. How salvaged? Only you can be the judge of that. Sunset sits the saddle of boom or bust. For a moment yesterday seemed headed for boom town, but instead just kinda petered out into grey-blue darkness. But that’s all good.
Eager to make something out of nothing I thought why not hop into my own picture for a change? Could be cool, right? Simply set the timer to 10-seconds and find a spot that seems to be on one of the outer thirds of the frame. Hard to go wrong with the rule of thirds. Once in position I remained as still as possible knowing I was popping off 7 brackets. Total excess I’m sure, but hip-hip-hooray for digital storage.
The last bit of the workflow brought some cross processing in post production. A final effort to complete a different look that seemed fitting for what was a different kind of shoot. It seemed fitting to layer over a washed out veil of mood. With a new year fast approaching it only makes sense to look ahead to the future with equal parts trepidation and wonder. I’m trying to collect my own thoughts to figure out where my photography should head in 2016. Do I try something completely new? Like portraiture? Revisit some kind of photo project like the one that got all this started in 2012? Identify an area of weakness for focus and improvement? Or maybe try deeper forays into shameless self-promotion? Of course I could follow the Greg Molyneux as water M.O. and seek out the path of least resistance to keep doing what I’m doing? Or some kind of mash-up combination? That said there are two things I do know: 1) I want to do more black and white, and 2) in the very near term I need to get cracking on my best of 2015 post so it’s ready to go come Christmas Eve.
December 21, 2015
Fade Out
Fade Out — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
For those of you following my photos on the regular—thank you!—you know I like vibrant, contrasty colors for my landscapes. The more color the better. But in processing last night’s shot (today) I wanted to produce a kinder, gentler final image. A more subtle hand to photograph and capture the calm, soothing blues that crept out over Ship Bottom’s bay beach as the final fading moments of light packed up their things for the daily migration west.
In spite of a promising cloud deck sunset never fully fired yesterday, and in this case I’m not even a trifle bit upset by that. After the world class light that’s been pumping in of late it was nice to take a breather to sit back and appreciate a true blue hour. This shot was made a good 25–30 minutes after full sundown, and coupled with the unseasonably mild temperatures (it’s cracked 70 the past two days across New Jersey) it was a real treat to make December photographs in short sleeves. Many rejuvenated revelers were out and about with their cameras, pets, and bicycles, while couples went walking hand-in-hand. It was just all so nice to see.
Compositionally I’ll go as far as to say I did the best I could. Until I arrived I was forgetful of the fact that at this time of year, with the winter sun setting in the southwest, angles get a little tough on many of LBI’s westward exposures. Sunset Point in Ship Bottom is surely no different. With the Point itself completely out of the the picture, I made my way about 200 feet south along the bay beach and decided to make my final stand at this little section of dune fence. Forever fond of said dune fence from my days of yore maintaining the public spaces with Ship Bottom Public Works, it was this or just an open expense of heavily traveled beach sand. The fence seemed the better play.
December 13, 2015
Revisit
Revisit — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
Familiarity sure is comforting. A place of positive past experience lends confidence if only in having been there before. I revisit spots constantly. More often than not trying to take a different angle to compose the frame in a new way so as to change the perspective—you know, so as not be completely repetitive. Subtle shifts in angle—side-to-side or up-and-down—coupled with a height change in camera body elevation relative to the ground can make all the difference in your final shot. This paired with ever changing cloudscapes and light play, and you’re likely seldom if ever to encounter identical shooting conditions even if you are one to revisit the friendly confines familiar ground.
This was certainly me today. I’ve got a bunch of photographs made from this little spot of roadside—seen here, here, here, here, and here—and even still it’s always worth a retread. This creates an iterative anthology over time documenting how a place both does and does not change. For me, here on Cedar Run Dock Road, it drives home just how much the marsh does change as it cycles through the time, the season and the tide. It’s certainly brought me to a place of greater appreciation for the diverse environmental sensitivities in my own community.
While the shot above is from a different spot entirely, its color cast reminds of a wintertime sunset I captured back in February of 2014. Very similar pink, yellow, and blue tones in these two pictures. Pretty cool to see that glow come back around. To spin off into a little bit of a tangent I may start making these kind of connections as part of my blogging; marrying current photographs with past shots where appropriate. It may help to better connect the narrative as I journey down the photographer’s path—what exactly that path is? I do not know.
December 11, 2015