Tonight’s sky did it again. This marks the third time I’ve watched the sky dim, sunset seemingly fading away, only to have the sky illuminate once more with booming pastel colors somehow reborn reborn. While there’s no doubt sound physics behind the phenomenon—it seems to defy logic that the final light of day could seemingly die off only to fire back up for a final few moments of luminous glory. If you ask me it’s simply one hell of a way to make an exit.
Picturing making aside, it was good times enough to be out at the Forge tonight watching this sublime sunset into blue hour transition. A process that elapsed over 25 minutes or so. And better yet I was accompanied by friends. Selfishly I’ve been waiting for a really great shot from all my time photographing Stafford Forge. For my money, tonight easily marks my best result to date. It’s all coming up spades this cold Saturday in January.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I am off to grab some dinner.
A quick run to Google told me these here cables operate under the more official moniker of guy-wires. Prior to this revelatory moment these were always just the cables used to make the Star Wars blaster sound first made famous when Han shot first. Not to mentions serving as common decor for the New Jersey Turnpike—functional as they may be.
By tonight it all came full-circle with these guy-wires making it into my photograph. I struggled this evening composing a shot that didn’t bore me. Moving from one spot to the next I took a bunch of test shots to go with some purposefully framed exposures from varying spots down on the Cedar Run Dock Road boat ramp. Everything was just kind of meh and I didn’t want to resort to a fall back scene. On most days I am pretty lucky and can settle into a frame almost instantly. But you know what? It’s good to struggle.
And so I went with the wires and the seawall. I wanted some elements of the human imprint in this not-so-pure landscape. Pulling together the connectedness of our human work—for better or for worse—with nature’s work. We would do well to continuously challenge ourselves to find ever-improving ways to iterate ourselves to a more harmonious future. OK, we can stop holding hands now.
On matters of motion — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/13
Sometimes you just have to press your shutter and hope. Sometimes it’s better to be lucky than good. With wave action coming in fast I had to be quick on my feet and steady with my hands so as to avoid any kind of camera tragedy of the saltwater kind. All the while operating blind. Let me explain:
With my lens hyperfocal distance set just left of infinity I knew any objects a hair over a foot away from the back of my camera ALL the way to the horizon would be tack sharp and in focus. What I didn’t know was my composition. Left to aim in a general direction of jetty rock and lapping ocean, I kept firing off exposures while retreating from the wave action. Wash, rinse, repeat for a good 15 minutes—I’m certain the fine family and surf fishermen nearby thought me nuts. Under ideal circumstances I would have laid in the sand and eyed up the shot in my viewfinder like any proper photographer would. But that position would have put my equipment in too much peril; I wouldn’t have been able to pop up and escape the waves quick enough. That was not a risk I was willing to take.
So I was stuck hoping for the best. And while I do like this shot, the prior Next time?
I made it up to the ocean tonight. I’m glad I did. Between the meh clouds and a tide chart noting a low tide coinciding with sunset the decision was pretty easy.
I probably don’t photograph the ocean as often as I should—I imagine this has something to do with my not a morning person status. Sunrise is the time to go, I’m just too lazy.
But tonight it did not matter. The light was great. The tide was out. The jetty exposed and the day glow stellar. The only thing that was going to impede my shooting tonight was the wave action under my tripod. For this reason I had to go handheld.
There was a lone piece of jetty rock set about 6 feet away from the main jetty. Between waves I was running up to the rock, dangling my camera about 3 inches from the sand, and trying to time the shutter with water spray firing off said rock. Since I was shooting a mere 15 inches from the jetty rock, the big risk was getting myself and my camera out of there before the spray got to me. All went well, and I got a sweet shot.
By myself but not alone — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/20
I’m always shooting Dock Road. Always. Unscientifically I’d say it’s where near half of my landscape shooting goes down. The reasons are plenty: it’s close, it’s lightly travelled, and it’s marsh vistas are as sprawling as they are perfect. As a sunset guy it’s pretty much all I can ask for in a go-to photo spot.
The picture posted above is usually at my back. It’s from my regular roadside spot only this time I’m shooting northward. I’ve always enjoyed the bending estuary on that side of the road coupled with the serenity of the marsh. Especially so during low tide on a windless day where the water turns mirror to the world. Last night all of this came together, and before I locked into my tripod for last night’s sunset shot, I took a quick handheld photograph of the north marsh. Now that I can compare the two shots together this is easily the one I prefer.
It doesn’t always have to be a show — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
Tonight, like other nights before it, was all about the ultimate sunset. No matter how many times I get out and shoot a sunset I’m always hoping my next one will be the one; explosive colors, textbook composition, interesting foreground, leading lines, unicorns. Come 120 minutes before sundown and there’s some interesting cloud play marking the sky, and this is exactly where my mind is going. Sunset mecca. It’s this drive that has kept me from falling bored with sunset photography. At least up until now.
Tonight though, it became readily clear that it wasn’t going to be one of those nights. One where I’m tweeting like a maniac and standing roadside doing a shimmy. No, tonight was not one of those nights. But you know what? It’s all good. I rather enjoyed the simplicity and softness of an understated blue hour. Tranquil and serene it put me in the right place.
Tomorrow the quest for the Ultimate Sunset™ continues.
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?
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.
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.
