Greg Molyneux Photography

Tag: 14mm

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

  • You gotta move

    A serene coastline photographed at blue hour and processed for HDR; algae laden driftwood pieces mark the foreground with wisps of pink clouds setting beyond an old bridge and cool blue skies.
    You gotta move — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    Photography rule #648: be adaptable.

    Photography rule #648a: be fast—with your adaptability and your feet.

    In photography as it is with life, it’s always good to have a plan. Not just for the structure, but more for the mindset it creates. A mindset that has us thinking about our craft long before and long after we’re out in the field executing. Through the iteration our work becomes better and more our own. And our hairs grow grayer, too!

    Last night’s plan was all about heading south to Great Bay Boulevard to make the most of an ideal late afternoon cloud setup coupled with a perfectly timed low tide. Things were looking up!

    My buddy and I arrived on scene about an hour before sundown and everything looked great. After scouting a composition the minutes passed and the sky grew more bleak. Figures. Low level clouds made their way in, draping the southwestern horizon. Things went from good to bad in the span of 20 minutes, and this sunset, like many before before it, had bust written all over it.

    6:50 p.m. About five minutes past sunset. Nothing but blues and grays. No color in sight.

    Then Jon calls over, “check out over there.” I look to the northwest over my right shoulder to spot Jon’s finger pointing off along the horizon. A lone jet of pink streaking across the western horizon off toward the north. Perplexed I kinda stood there for a minute or two more amazed than anything else.

    6:55 p.m. Ten minutes past sundown. The pink is growing.

    Things are escalating quickly. The northwestern sky is lighting up pink and it’s spreading quickly. Too bad it’s spreading nowhere near my shot. All the color stayed to the northwest, a real oddity for sunset light.

    At this moment I knew I had to move. And fast. Decisively I scooped my tripod, camera fixed to its head, and began a 200m sprint toward the bayside beach. Running like a soldier with a rifle, I had my setup cradled and moved as quick as my 32 year old wheels would allow. I can still pick ’em up and lay ’em down.

    Knowing I had no more than five minutes of color left (max!) I arrived to the bay beach. I looked left. I looked right. I Spotted some neat driftwood and knew that was my foreground. It’s not like I had time to explore other options. Above is the shot I exposed. Who the hell needs a plan anyway?

  • Safe harbor

    An HDR photograph of Barnegat Lighthouse taken from the jetty rock at blue hour overlooking majestic pastel clouds over Barnegat Bay.
    Safe harbor — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    As I was taking the seven bracketed exposures for last night’s shot, I was looking back northeast over my right shoulder at the incredible scene happening to my rear. Old Barney awash in blue hour pastels, cast in a soft pink glow. There was too much great light and not enough cameras (in the interest of full disclosure I was firing off panoramas with my iPhone throughout the shoot). We’re talking first world problems of the highest order. In the span of a second my mind racked over the pros and cons of moving my tripod and repositioning my camera in the midst of the phenomenal sunset that was unfolding in real time. Normally I like to find my spot and stay there.

    After a brief pause of hesitation I decided to make the move. I did go to the lighthouse to shoot the lighthouse, after all. Knowing I had to move quickly, I dialed in with speed and took one set of seven brackets before hurrying back to my first location, facing sunset. That one set produced one hell of a final result. I haven’t taken many photographs of Long Beach Island’s most famous landmark but this one is surely best.

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  • Last Summer fire or first Fall burn?

    Overlooking a calm Barnegat Bay, this HDR photograph features an unbelievably intense sunset with striking orange, yellow and pink. All backed in a rich turquoise. Taken mere hours before the start of Fall.
    Last Summer fire or first Fall burn? — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    To equinox or not.

    At some point today, harried by one pained throat and an equally upset stomach, I determined today was the equinox. How couldn’t it be? It was the 22nd of the month and yesterday wasn’t the equinox, so… Excellent clouds were out and about all throughout the day, and I thought there’s no way in hell I am going to miss an equinox sunset shoot so long as I’m well enough to do so. Driven by my superstitious—watch Ancient Aliens for hours at a time—side comes out, and my mind all but assumes there has to be an outstanding sunset because, hello? Equinox. I mean this is just how the universe works. In honor of this assured collision of cosmic forces, I decided to up the ante and shoot from a new location: Barnegat Light.

    The 23rd?!? Really?

    Seriously? I can’t ever remember a solstice or an equinox happening on a 23rd. Insert incredulity.

    When I learned this I was already en route. Tweeting my despair I soon learned all was not lost. There was a technicality that would save me yet! Fall, you see, arrives at 10:29 p.m. for those of us on the East Coast. So while this photograph was taken during Summer, it’s still on the date with which Fall will arrive. Convenient.

    None of this, however, speaks for the real show. That sky. Wow. It all came together today. The air was remarkably clear, with the cold front that passed through last night visibility far exceeded its norm, making from uniquely sharp conditions. The cloud striations were great, the colors magical, and the air pure. It was a sight to behold in person, and I am so pleased to have a capture to share with you. This shot has vaulted to the top of my personal favorites. It’s gonna be a tall order to better this sunset. You’re on notice, solstice.

  • And the orange glow

    A low key HDR sunset photograph overlooking the tidal overflow of a lagoon flowing through a salt marsh.
    And the orange glow — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    I came away with two shots from last night’s sunset shoot. The one I posted yesterday and the one you see above. Only minutes after the first photograph, the sky had undergone a rapid transformation. From the deep blue sky and dramatic clouds to the smooth orange glow backed by an almost turquoise sky that we see here. Once that sun came under the cloud draping just over the horizon the warmth of the sunlight changed—dialing up the orange and yellow and intensifying shadows. This is a big part of what make sunset (or sunrise) so exciting—you can have numerous stunning scenes in the span of one half hour.

  • For the cloud fans among us

    In this HDR sunset photograph, large puffy clouds illuminate the sky in the final minutes of sun.
    For the cloud fans among us — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    A few thoughts from tonight’s shoot:

    • The tide was up
    • The northern wind was blowing
    • The light was great—especially early—this was taken about 30 minutes before sunset
    • The light was downhill from there—continuing the recent trend of better light before sunset
    • The cumulus clouds were putting on a good show

    September continues to prove itself a great month for photographs.

  • Hushed tones

    Hushed tones

    A cross processed HDR photograph take just after sunset over the front lake of Stafford Forge Wildlife Management Area. The pictures casts a soft purple hue.
    Hushed tones — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    Wherever possible I try to get my photos on the computer and processed with little time wasted. Doing so closes out my mental workflow. In a relatively short period of time I’m able to produce something tangible (digitally speaking) to share with you. I, in turn, get to let go and immediately transition my brain to the next shot. Photography is liberating in this way: I build an online archive to record my evolution, quite literally storing the past, to do my remembering for me. Perhaps it’s not without irony that this virtual memory bank releases me to quickly and naturally forget. My past work goes out with the old—paving the way for the new. To chasing the better shot. To knowing I have to be there, at all times, ready to shoot, over and over again; committed to waiting out that perfect light I’ve been chasing for years. Anticipating that future pay-off is what drives this passion of mine. Pushing me ever forward with my craft.

    How does this relate to this shot? This is a holdover from last week. Taken on the Eleventh of September. It’s hung with me for a while. I attended my cousin’s wedding (a lovely affair) this weekend, and with the travel schedule this post went by the wayside. Thinking back to that day last week, 9/11, I did my best to reconcile this day. Its meaning. The mighty weight that comes with it. It’s an open wound for us all, and a thousand fold for all our brothers and sisters directly affected.

    It’s impossible to find words, at least for me, that do any justice with respect to that day. The best I can do is continue to hope the world manages to find its way and work toward a more perfect future. One where future generations can look back with incredulity at how petty our differences once were. In the meantime, all the best forever and always to the victims, first responders, and family and friends to all who were dealt such senseless wrath.

  • The purpling storm

    The purpling storm

    Long exposure lightning photography taken from Cedar Run Dock Road. Cloud to cloud lightning ignites the sky in an electrified purple glow.
    The purpling storm — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 800 | EXP 30 sec

    With Summer winding down last night offered what may turn out to be a last chance storm chasing session for the season—not that I’ve had any storm chasing sessions this season, but I digress…

    As the clock passed 10 with a line of thunderstorms approaching, I had the opportunity to head out to Dock Road to take some photographs. I went out with a buddy (storm chasing is much better with a friend) and set up ye olde trusty tripod facing toward the south. With lightning firing 360 degrees around us it didn’t take long for the spookiness to set in. Maybe it’s just me, but it’s a bit scary holding a metal object in the middle of a marsh plain surrounded by storms.

    As we were out of the car shooting from the road’s shoulder, nervous about all the electricity, we began negotiating how minutes we had before we absolutely had to bail and get back in the car. As we were down to about two minutes left, with cloud to cloud lightning crackling all around, we heard the loud drone of what sounded like a boat. Get the hell out of here, we thought. But sure enough, there it was, a small outboard motoring down the marsh, racing to get back to dock. As bugged out as we were, I can’t imagine what those steaming in on the water were thinking. Oh, and the boat had no light’s either, so there’s that.

  • Some days the sun goes out in style

    A vibrant HDR sunset taken bayside from Sunset Point in Ship Bottom, New Jersey.
    Some days the sun goes out in style — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    … and leaves us in awe.

    I’m certainly glad I made it over to Sunset Point in Ship Bottom, New Jersey for what turned out to be some top shelf sunsetting action. There were plenty other revelers to take in the visual mastery, too. Related: I was most pleased to see those in attendance hang out with their cellphone cameras for the pastel explosion that came about 10 minutes after sunset. They were rewarded for their patience. All too often I see other photographers get in there car and leave moments before the color takes it up a notch.

    Tonight was a perfect example. What started out as 50/50 with a chance of being clouded out turned into one of the better sunsets I’ve seen. I’ve lucked out twice this week. I am not complaining.

  • This is how you sunset

    HDR sunset taken along the south marsh on Cedar Run Dock Road. The intense pastels and cloud structure are the landscape hallmarks here.
    This is how you sunset — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    Thank you, Mother Nature. I am one shimmying fool.

    It’s been a long time, man (and women and boys and girls). Sunsets have been alluding me for the better part of Summer. That certainly changed with a flourish today. As I was down on Dock Road shooting I honestly didn’t know what direction to fix my tripod. With three hundred and sixty degrees of awesomesauce happening it was damn hard to choose.

    In the end I went a few I my favorite things: I was able to get the octagon house in the shot and the Moon. Excellent. Seriously though, this one is all on happenstance. The sky produced with unreal cloud patterns and color this day. All I had to do was show up.