Sit for a moment? — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
After an afternoon palling around with Jon and cousin Dan—a jaunt that included a surprise bridal shower drop-off, some tasty burgers, cigars and some bayside Weiβe bier Quelle style—we made our way to Sunset Park in Surf City, New Jersey, for sunset. The place was happening (always nice to see); young and old, Long Beach Island revelers were out in force to pay homage as we spin from the sun.
Looking back it wasn’t the most spectacular of sunsets, however there was such a subtle late summer calm to the whole scene. Using the park bench in the foreground speaks the perfect narrative for a shore community and a landscape that has brought such great memories to so many. As we prepare to say goodbye to another summer we can’t forget to stop, breathe, take it all in and sit for a moment.
Just last night — 14mm | f/2.8 | ISO 400 | EXP 30 sec
It wasn’t until my buddy Jon and I were heading back over Manahawkin Bay en route to the mainland by way of the causeway bridge that we took note of the sky; brightly lit low hanging clouds were racing across it, seemingly illuminated by the light pollution below. Once back at my house we quickly decided to make a run for Stafford Forge Wildlife Management Area for photographs. I hadn’t been night shooting in a while and was more excited by the idea than usual.
Once there the clouds had filled in a bit more than we would have liked. And the bugs? Well, they were doing annoying bug things. But after about a half hour some clearing came to bear and brought some stars into the exposure. This shot was my last of the night and it just so happens to be my favorite.
These colors are not your own — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/25
See that tree over there? The sparse one to the left rising up and all alone? Good. I couldn’t stop seeing it either. Everywhere I walked yesterday that quiet, unassuming tree kept reaching out for my attention—intimating its desire to be seen but never at the expense of being the center of attention. It carried a quiet confidence, overcoming its superficial loneliness; with each passing moment I became more and more convinced this tree was perfectly happy with its existence, with its place—hiding in plain sight. I as much as anyone can appreciate that.
Welp. Here I am. Breaker of Rules. Destroyer of Conventional Wisdom. Over and over you’ll hear keep those horizons straight! and get those power lines out of there! And that’s all well and good. Rules exist for a reason. They keep us focused and give us a proven roadmap for success. So whether it’s the rule of thirds or don’t shoot in bad light—ahem, midday—we’re given useful constructs for our photography. And I appreciate that but sometimes you’ve just got to throw the rules out the window.
Just the other day I was chasing down a sunset at my usual Cedar Run Dock Road jaunt and could quickly tell it wasn’t going to materialize into much. Instead of setting up my tripod and stubbornly waiting for the color drama that would never be, I opted for the change-up and went old school handheld. Bugs be damned I was just going to have some fun photo walking for a few minutes. I began taking shots at odd angles using non-standard compositions. To remain off the beaten path I used Trey Ratcliffe’s Adobe Lightroom preset, The Navigator and rendered this post-apocalyptic look.
So get out there and shoot what you feel. Rules be damned, I dig it.
As close as I’ll get to painting — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
Some buddies were over last night and as we were scheming on a sunset locale, we (thanks, Jeff!) settled upon the other Dock Road in West Creek, New Jersey. Whether you go by Tips Dock Road, Dock Road II or West Creek Dock Road—we’ve got two of them in southern Ocean County and both are excellent for photographers, nature lovers and shore birds alike; not to mention all the good folks who live out there.
As we were poking around waiting for the clouds to part (never happened) we happened on a new shooting spot (thanks again, Jeff!). A small section of beach—no wider than 10 feet—placed neatly and discretely between the ever lengthening marsh grass. Anyone got a name for that stuff? With the moody blue tones and low deck of undulating clouds I had a feeling I could salvage the sunset that wasn’t. But what I got was much more painterly than I either hoped or planned for. The lazy shutter of my multiple brackets brought enough movement in the grasses to bring an element of brush stroke into the frame. As someone who struggled mightily with painting in high school (I was a pencil and paper guy), I always held the masters of brush in the highest regard. It’s a skill I just don’t have the touch to match.
Summer sunset on the salt marsh — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
Finally, folks. Finally
I’ve been in some kind of sunset slump. Whether by poor scheduling or just busted weather conditions, it’s been months since I’ve caught me a quality sundown. Somehow tonight my spider sense was tingling.
During my commute home I was noticing some promising cloud development and decided to bail on my evening run. Somewhat hesitant in my decision, I got home, packed my things and made for my old standby: Dock Road. As pine forest gave way to sweet salt marsh the horizons opened up before me; I knew my slump was over. Drama was written the sky over and there I was to take it all in. Camera in hand. Finally.
Interestingly, the photograph I wound up posting was not one of the shots I originally had in mind for a final product. I assumed I was going to go with one of the bracketed exposure sets that came about 7 minutes after sun went down, as is the my norm. Instead I went with a shot featuring the sun still with us. It just goes to show that you can’t always go with your assumptions (and the back of your viewfinder). You’ve get to get home, upload and take it all in. Let your photographs speak for themselves.
As he faced the sun he cast no shadow — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/400
As I was spending my last night sitting in Huntington Beach on a retaining wall wondering just what the hell I was going to photograph I spotted a patch of palms. Four palms. Four. Leaving my seat I made my way to said palms and tucked tightly into a crouch. I had my wide angle lens so getting close was key. As I was framing my shot I had a stroke luck: a young man strode past kicking up a cloud of dusk. Drought is the unfortunate order of the day in California and this, while certainly only beach sand, summed up the situation succinctly. I think it made for the perfect shot.
California cruising — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
A few weeks back I spent the week away on the left coast. It was my second time. Leaving Eastwatch by the Sea it’s still strange to watch the sun set over the ocean. Rising it what I’m used to. Clearly I don’t get out much.
While I was staying with good friends in Huntington Beach, California, I did a whole bunch of nothing—and it was everything I hoped it could be. Aside from a round a disc golf (first time and it was excellent) and a two hour jaunt on some trails in Crystal Cove, chilling out relaxing was the order of the day(s).
As I was packing for the trip I hemmed and hawed over bringing my camera and requisite gear. I had a feeling I wasn’t going to use the camera all that much and have been challenging myself to pack lighter and lighter. When push came to shove I gave in and brought the gear. In retrospect leaving my equipment at home would have been the way to go. It wasn’t until the last day of vacation that I even took my camera out of the bag; and even then it was only for a couple dozen pictures. I just wasn’t feeling it, and let’s face it, I’m note sure I saw a cloud the whole week out there.
I’ve come to notice it’s a big struggle for me to find interesting subject matter when I’m not familiar with the surroundings. In the absence of having good locales scoped out I just don’t know what to do. As something of a landscape photographer this is clearly problematic. The obvious suggests I need to get out and explore more, but my homebody sensibilities serve as a real barrier to entry. It’s always something.
Marsh gone green — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
Photographing the salt marsh is not without trade-offs. In winter deep color sunsets rendered almost daily reign supreme; while in summer, the rich awakening of lush green marsh grass tells our eyes all they need to know that summer is here. Each are splendid in their own way.
Tonight was my first night shooting wide angle in what feels like ages, and I haven’t been to Dock Road in I can’t remember how long. Let’s put it this way, last I laid eyes on the marsh it was only showing the slightest hint of nascent green spread thinly over the muted expense. Seeing the rolling green tonight was invigorating. And while I wound up clouded out of a promising sunset, I still captured an enticing glimpse of the marsh imbued with life once again.
