Greg Molyneux Photography

Tag: cedar run dock road

Cedar Run Dock Road photography made by Greg Molyneux

The Cold Will Roll
The Cold Will Roll — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/125
It’s on, New Jersey. True arctic air is rolling across the Northeast and Mid-Atlantic and with it comes a polar left hook of cold to the jaw of we the lower latitude dwellers. While the bays remain open water for now, the marshes have begun the inescapable transition to pop-up ice world. In the face of possible subzero temperatures overnight I imagine said bays will not be far behind. This is a not so welcome reminder of the powerful cold we squared off against in winter’s 2014 and 2015. Fortunately this cold snap will not have that kind of staying power.
In the face of biting cold and stiff wind I simplified my shooting workflow tonight. There was no tripod. There was no bracketing. With steady gusts over 30 mph, stability and warmth was a factor. With that I had a go with some old school single bracket handheld shooting. Aided by a frozen marsh I was able to get up close and personal with the tide pool above. On my knees from right at the water’s edge, bringing the viewer right into the sunset action. Juxtapose this with a very similar shot I made earlier this month from this spot where I am set farther back, with the camera several feet higher. Notice how the perspective and intimacy change over the span of only a few feet? I prefer tonight’s tucked in look.
From now through Sunday we let the cold air roll. May it bring the deep purple sky I long for.
Interested in buying? Purchase
February 13, 2016
On Moments of Stillness and Reflection
On Moments of Stillness and Reflection — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
Life happens. Good, bad, or indifferent life happens most when we least expect. The random acts of chaos that lay waste to any and all attempts at preparation and control. Casting aside sudden change’s immediate injection of drama—positive or otherwise—the dust settles to reveal opportunities for growth, change, and renewal. Yet when the certainty of impermanence becomes all too real it can become a bit tough to remember that advice in the heat of the moment.
How we deal with the uncontrolled happenstance of life is a central part of the human experience. How we maintain perspective and sensibility in the face of upheaval works to keep us malleable enough to reshape ourselves in the face of change without losing who we are. When life gets a little bit weird it’s the little things that can help pull us through. Maybe laying eyes on the uninterrupted smoothness of a dead calm body of water, reflecting the setting sun without a imperfection. A scene with wind so still you can close your eyes to hear nothing but your heart stir, reminding us we are alive and well. These brief cuts of serenity now steel us for the insanity later.
Interested in buying? Purchase
February 3, 2016
Orange Asunder
Orange Asunder — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
Tonight’s sky, yo. Things were on fire. Smoldering clouds, disjointed and layered, torched in a fiery orange glow. Somewhere lost in time Hephaestus hammers away at his hellforge, sparks igniting the earthly sky of our modern domain. Was this the look the bronze age sky had cast as Achilles’ shield was crafted? All I can say is high drama was the Dock Road scene as a scintillating sunset pulsed upon the marsh.
Tonight getting the shot was the simple part of the process. It was corralling the 7 brackets in post processing that was the challenge. The orange and reds were amped and it took a deal of desaturation, hue, and luminance adjustments to get things under control—lest this be blow out city. Fortunately with a few whip cracks and some deft slider work things were brought back within reason. With that I am happy to close out another productive weekend of shooting. Here’s to a great week.
Interested in buying? Purchase
January 31, 2016
Fired and Frozen
Fired and Frozen — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
I avoid vertical orientation photography, and I’m doing myself a disservice. Despite its obvious place and application in landscape photography I remain reluctant to exploit it. Unpacking my reasoning and there’s a few things at play here: 1) I dropped my camera pretty early on and its gyroscope—and thereby level—is useless, rendering level horizons a bit harder to dial in when the camera is upright; 2) my website homepage renders all images in a traditional 3:2 crop ratio (standard crop you’d get from any 35mm film camera); 3) when viewing a single post page—such as this one—from a desktop the left-justification of the photo is a little bit wonky; and 4) I’m just not comfortable making them. To confuse things further, I prefer to shoot vertically from my mobile device as opposed to landscape. Without contradictions, I am not. It was actually a photograph I shared to Instagram last night that led me to go back and process my DSLR version of Sunday night’s sunset this evening.
Yet as I walk through the reasons cited above one thing becomes immediately clear—only one of those reasons has anything to do with photography. While all four in some degree or another shed light on the pitfalls of perfectionism, two of those reasons are remnants of my past life as a web designer. To be fair it’s not entirely a past life as I do have this place to still dabble in the front end web world, if only a little. In the immediate future, however? I will make it a point to shoot vertical more often. Not only is it the lone path to improvement, it’s a key piece to the landscape photographers repertoire. I can no longer choose to sit out. In the meantime my buddy Ben excels at the technique and took a mean shot this morning. That coupled with my Instagram shot sort of set this line of thinking in motion. He also shows off several exemplar vertical images on his 2015 best of post.
In order to scratch the perfectionist itch maybe I’ll carve out some time to address my web layout issues with vertical photos. Maybe.
Interested in buying? Purchase
January 26, 2016
A Bridge Too Far
A Bridge Too Far — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
There would be weather they said. Follow the global models they said. Disregard the NAM they said. The heaviest bands will never push north they said. Well here we are one day after the Blizzard of 2016, and I’m sure many a backs are barking from a long day of digging out after wondering, dude, where’s my car? This was one for the record books, folks, and even though the biggest snows happened just a few miles to my north and to my west, the coast sure saw a battering at the hands of a fired up Atlantic Ocean. After spending the better of the weekend weathering the storm with friends, fretting over rain/snow lines only to later find myself and swan diving into snow after the changeover, my buddy and I finally made it out for some real deal photo making this evening.
After much hemming and hawing over where to shoot, most of which happened during a pitiful attempt to clear out my driveway, an unsolicited query from family friends on Dock Road asking my Mother if I was out shooting said road solidified the final destination. Understanding the marsh isthmus no doubt took a serious tidal beating, we didn’t exactly know what we were in for at the Road of Dock.
The scene upon arrival was otherworldly. Elevated sea levels and ice flows littering the marsh dominated the landscape. While the tide was mostly down at this point, its frozen remnants were not hard to parse out. The vestiges of a foul tempered nor’easter were visible horizon to horizon, and before long the power of the wind was clearly on display. No less than four telephone poles were down, with power lines sidewinding the single road for what must have been a mile. Yes the scene was surreal but that was quickly supplanted with the sobering reality that real humans live amidst this battered place of wonderment, and here they are tasked with wintering it out sans power in the wake of a powerful winter storm—one that will most certainly be regaled as historic in the pantheon of east coast storms.
While my picture making was at a minimum this weekend, yet this photograph marks my first documentation of New Jersey in a post Winter Storm Jonas world. Here’s hoping you fared as well as possible during this powerful weather system, and were able to make the most of your time indoors. Cheers.
Interested in buying? Purchase
January 24, 2016
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.
Interested in buying? Purchase
January 18, 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.
Interested in buying? Purchase
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!
Interested in buying? Purchase
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.
Interested in buying? Purchase
December 28, 2015