What we do when our hobbies teeter on the brink? When the plateau lasts so long the urge to press on becomes as flat and indiscernible as the far off horizon. How do we get our mojo back?
Cedar Run Dock Road Photographs
Here's my complete archive of Cedar Run Dock Road photography. Jutting southeastward the meandering Dock Road features 360 degrees of salt marsh views. Serene and expansive it has for decades been a favorite diversion only minutes from my house. In recent years it's become my most frequented spot for making sunset photographs. Some of my favorite Dock Rod shots include A Marsh Life, Still the Sirens Call, and The path before me.
It seems everything is burning around us. Far too much desire to tear it all down and reign over the ashes. The dark side farce of humanities unpleasant underbelly seems to be boomeranging back once again. History is undefeated, yet the beautiful skies still burn above us indifferent to it all. Let’s rewrite our story and dare to be different, yeah?
Nothing beats the look when the salt marsh powers back up to full strength as it radiates a fresh green color like no other. It’s so fresh and full of life, it’s total rejuvenation right before the eyes. And the way it plays with the blues and pastels at sunset is unlike anything else. It’s a joy for any landscape photographer to behold and capture.
New Jersey photographer Greg Molyneux shares his latest hospital scare the day after capturing a sunset out on Cedar Run Dock Road salt marsh. Heart issues continue to weigh heavily on his mind, and has him shaken to the core. Stay healthy out there, and take care of yourselves, my friends.
Sometimes all you need as an evening jog, some Star Wars audiobooks, chicken tenders, and some attention grabbing clouds and then, boom, a 14mm sunset photograph over Cedar Run Dock Road salt marsh in mid May happens. The sky lit up in pink pastel tones as storm clouds roll across the marsh from the western horizon.
Digging into the past. Scratching away at that pleasurable itch of nostalgia. I assume this is a feeling that comes welcomed by us all, though I admit my own Peter Pan bias may be coloring my protracted adolescent glasses a bit here. Regardless, I’m glad to revisit this fiery sunset from November 2021, which I decided to hold out on for some reason. Now if you will allow me the indulgence.
Shoot the same shot twice and it’ll never be the same. No matter how hard you try this truth will hold. One of the great rewards of making photographs is the differences, both subtle and great, that arise between exposures. Tactical changes take these differences even further. This brings powerful creativity to the photographer, affording all kinds of wonder and discovery throughout the process.
Feels like an age since I’ve made eyes with a proper winter scene on the salt marsh. Almost forgot how profoundly calming it can be, even with biting temperatures further sharpened by wind. Let this be the start of a great year of winter photography for southern New Jersey!
What do we make of familiar places contradictorily feeling so foreign and so remote? What aspect of psyche brings this duality to bear? It’s like the discomfort in our own shoes writ large onto geography. It is but land. Nothing more; nothing less. So why do we give it so much power?
Nothing wrong with going back to the familiar. Returning to what works. Finding comfort in the things we know best. While I’ve been dabbling with panning motion blur in my landscape photographs, I took a moment earlier this week to remember my roots. Tack sharp salt marsh photographs at sunset. Now if you’ll indulge me…