Greg Molyneux Photography

Tag: cedar run dock road

Cedar Run Dock Road photography made by Greg Molyneux

  • Revisit

    Revisit

    HDR landscape photograph of sunset fading to blue hour over the salt marsh
    Revisit — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    Familiarity sure is comforting. A place of positive past experience lends confidence if only in having been there before. I revisit spots constantly. More often than not trying to take a different angle to compose the frame in a new way so as to change the perspective—you know, so as not be completely repetitive. Subtle shifts in angle—side-to-side or up-and-down—coupled with a height change in camera body elevation relative to the ground can make all the difference in your final shot. This paired with ever changing cloudscapes and light play, and you’re likely seldom if ever to encounter identical shooting conditions even if you are one to revisit the friendly confines familiar ground.

    This was certainly me today. I’ve got a bunch of photographs made from this little spot of roadside—seen here, here, here, here, and here—and even still it’s always worth a retread. This creates an iterative anthology over time documenting how a place both does and does not change. For me, here on Cedar Run Dock Road, it drives home just how much the marsh does change as it cycles through the time, the season and the tide. It’s certainly brought me to a place of greater appreciation for the diverse environmental sensitivities in my own community.

    While the shot above is from a different spot entirely, its color cast reminds of a wintertime sunset I captured back in February of 2014. Very similar pink, yellow, and blue tones in these two pictures. Pretty cool to see that glow come back around. To spin off into a little bit of a tangent I may start making these kind of connections as part of my blogging; marrying current photographs with past shots where appropriate. It may help to better connect the narrative as I journey down the photographer’s path—what exactly that path is? I do not know.

  • I can still see clear but I dare not feel

    I can still see clear but I dare not feel

    Landscape HDR photograph of pastel color cirrus clouds at sunset
    I can still see clear but I dare not feel — 14mm | f/8 | ISO | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    I’ve been sitting on this photograph for a few hours now reluctant to process. With my mind getting the better of me these past two days I was keen to not turn this picture and its subsequent post into one giant window to my struggle. So I’ll just leave it here with the statement that I wasn’t occupying the best headspace out on the Dock Road marsh in spite of this beautiful sunset Mother Nature brought before me. Most always picture making lifts my spirit. Today I was tied down in chains.

    Frankly all credit for this shot goes to the fellas at SunsetWx. They nailed today’s forecast. Under a dome of clear skies and seasonally warm temperatures all day I put zero thought toward any kind of photography today. But then during another tedious experience watching football I saw this tweet roll through my stream and if nothing else was at least offered an escape from witnessing another Giants’ loss. Once again their model was right on the money.

    Compositionally I played it safe tonight, unabashedly borrowing the setup from Look Down On It. Chalk it up to moodiness, lack of inspiration, or the simple fact that I think well of the meandering run of water that carries the eye in a slight switchback up the middle of the photograph and out into the sky.

    Here’s to tomorrow.

  • Endless

    Wide angle landscape photograph of calm bay water and clear sky at blue hour
    Endless — 14mm | f/8 | ISO | EXP 1/60

    Immediately after I made yesterday’s sunset silhouette photograph I headed for the far east end of Cedar Run Dock Road. The benefits were two fold as it’s both a convenient vehicular turnaround and an ideal vantage point to look out on the whole of the bay. I’m glad I stopped.

    Sure it’s starting to cool down here in the northern mid-Atlantic but that doesn’t mean the outdoors can’t be the respite a weary soul requires, if only for a few moments. Immediately out of my car the sublime calm of the bay washed over me. Gentle rolling waves more at home in your bathtub floated along the water’s skin. The glow of the clear blue hour cast a scene so calming it took a few minutes before I broke from my trance to document the sight. First I made a quick video for Instagram. Then I figured I may as well bust out the tripod and pop off a shot. Here it is, in all its simplicity. One basic composition highlighting the still plainness of it all. No dramatic cloud structure; no definable foreground or feature. Only the peace in the nothingness that was somehow anything but.

  • Remnant

    Wide angle landscape photograph of still water and silhouette dock remains at sunset
    Remnant — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/125

    For some time now I’ve had my eye fixed upon a derelict patch of what I can only assume was once a functioning boat dock. Now this Dock Road quay long defunct presents a photographic opportunity; its still remains offering a henge of sorts for a silhouette sunset shot. The scene was aided by an astronomically low tide where all rows of wooden teeth were laid bare, enhanced still by the dead calm water. Just about all conditions were met to make this shot happen now. With that quick mental calculus I abandoned my more familiar spots and decided to ditch all my standard protocols. Instead of the tripod I went handheld. Instead of HDR I went single brackets. Instead of low I went lower than low. I shall explain—

    Considering the near cloudless sky pumping in direct sunlight the contrast between the light and dark areas of the photograph would already be extreme—a desired backdrop for making a silhouette exposure. My standard protocol would have me make upward of seven brackets such that color, light, and detail of the overexposed brackets would fill in the otherwise blackened fore and middle ground during HDR post-processing. Because of this I would of course have to use a tripod to ensure perfect stillness throughout the brackets—note it’s generally good practice to shoot your landscapes on a tripod regardless of your number of brackets. But today day I needed to ditch my tripod altogether as I wanted to get lower than low. About two inches off the ground low. Shooting blind I go about this by feel, balancing my hands trying to keep the camera as level to the flat ground as possible such that the horizon will at least be mostly straight (whatever little corrections for getting fully level can also be handled in post processing, but you still want to get as level as possible so as not to crop out desired compositional elements in your photograph).

    I’d be lying if I claimed to be 100% satisfied with this attempt, but it’s certainly a good starting point. A photograph to build on. Probably one of the most rewarding aspects of photography is that you don’t have to get it right the first time. Like anything else repetition, patience, and consistent effort over time afford the opportunities to capitalize on the shots we want to make. For this reason I’ve been kicking around the idea of putting together a personal photography bucket list of sorts. A place where I can get my thoughts down to bring focus on the future photographs I want to make, and maybe even some of the past ones I want to remake. It’ll never be a one and done, but it will at least be a real fine place to start.

    Oh, one more thing, I made another shot after this one down at the end of Dock Road near Antoinetta’s that I will share tomorrow. I love it if only for its calm and simplicity. Cheers until then.

  • Eye to the Sky

    Contrails line the sky over a reflective marsh tide pool at sunset
    Eye to the Sky — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    In light of this afternoon’s smoldering sunset (and here’s a really great shot of all its fiery glory) this post seems anticlimactic at best and inappropriately titled at worst—what kind of eye to the sky worth its salt would miss out on first rate glow and a rainbow to boot? But that’s just what happened today and that’s just how it goes sometimes. The sliver lining? For once I’m not too bent out of shape. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves and call this progress or maturity; on the contrary it’s solace in knowing the fat, wet raindrops intermittently falling would not have kept my lens dry. So even if I was out there, shooting would have probably led to more frustration.

    Rewinding back to yesterday I was finally able to get back on the marsh, camera in hand. It had been over two weeks since I last partook of the photography, and as soon as I cleared the woods on the east end of Dock Road the marsh opened up and the whole world seemed a little brighter, problems a little lighter. Golden light sprawled out upon the marsh touching all corners in its reach. Even in the marsh’s browning death throes spirited light did all it could to trick the eyes that winter in fact was not coming. This sight coupled with a morning spent with a big group of spirited volunteers was almost enough to warm even the most frozen of souls. Yes, mine included.

    On site and out of the car my thoughts shifted to the contrails lining the sky. Immediately my cynical mind vacillated between gentle amusement and mild disappointment, as I knew this is the type of sky that makes the chemtrail crowd cry foul. Meanwhile all I’m trying to do is make a good shot. Find a good composition, make the frames, and call it a day. Here we can use the contrails to create strong leading lines in the photograph. Very simply the lines tell the eye where to look, operating as giant pointers for the viewer. And speaking of eyes, doesn’t that marsh tide pool look similar to our sight organ? It’s got a pupil and everything. Looking upward. The eye to the sky.

  • Set Among Them

    Wide angle landscape photograph of phragmites and salt marsh at sunset
    Set Among Them — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/20

    Yesterday I posted what you could call the natural partner to today’s photograph—with all the same ingredients—a handheld shot of phragmites just after sunset. While the clouds front and center in yesterday’s offering were impressive, I think I prefer today’s rendition from an overall shot of the day standpoint. In case anyone is totally confused, today is Sunday and both photographs I’ve mentioned here were made on Friday afternoon, 6 November. More often than not I like to go with one posted photograph per session, but sometimes you come away with a few keepers to share.

    If I had to express what it is I like most about this photograph it would tie back to color, perspective, and movement. I’d also add a elevated sense of preference creeps in because of its departure from my standard workflow, as I discussed yesterday. Here again was another handheld shot, but also from a perspective I don’t regularly utilize. I was up close and personal with the phragmites, sitting among them with my lens no more than 3 feet from the ground and no more than a foot behind the plants at an angle of roughly 15 degrees above the horizon (I’m spitballing here). This coupled with a lazy enough shutter of 1/20 of a second and just enough wind able to create the areas of motion blur you see among the stalks, adding to the sense of place. Close your eyes and you just may hear the breeze.

  • The Other Side of Things

    Wide angle landscape photograph of pastel clouds over phragmites and marsh at sunset
    The Other Side of Things — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/30

    I went old school yesterday—making single bracket handheld exposures along Dock Road just around sunset. Gasp! I took a step back from the usual Tripod Only, Brackets Only, Sunset Only wide angle workflow to which I fall prey. Creature of habit and all. But sometimes you have got to break away.

    Yesterday afternoon offered the chance. Sunset was shaping up to be so-so at best.  So tasked with figuring out how best to salvage to shoot, I took a gander behind me to the northeast exposure and noted some detailed cloud shapes behind me. Photogenic clouds, even. Thinking these may color up when the sun slipped down, I disconnected camera body from tripod and walked across the street. And from there, directly opposite to my initial position, it went. A few purposeful exposures working in the invasive—albeit visually pleasing in the right light—phragmites as a foreground element. The shutter was lazy enough at 1/30 a second to produce a hint of movement in the pesky plants. I’ve got another shot from last night that I will post next that maximizes the movement and lines of the much maligned phragmites.

    The lesson? Always keep your head on a swivel. No need to jump right into the act of shooting. Take the time to scan your environment, observing the landscape from different angles. Break the mode and let go of the status quo.

  • Subtlety in Familiarity

    Wide angle HDR landscape photograph of ominous clouds backlit by a pastel sunset at Antoinetta's Restaurant
    Subtlety in Familiarity — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    Fierce sky tonight, folks. Ominous. Brooding. Ever-changing. A fitting vibe on this the third anniversary of Superstorm Sandy. Context appropriate I made for an old standby location: Antoinetta’s Restaurant, down at the far east end of Cedar Run Dock Road in West Creek, NJ—an area that was beat up pretty bad from the storm. Now closed for the season, at least I think, this pointe will likely feature more regularly in my winter shooting rotation. So huzzah for that. For whatever reason I’ve had some great luck capturing dramatic skies from this spot. Perhaps none more dramatic than this. Or this.

    Not content to simply recreate an oft used composition from this location, I used what nature gave me. In this case? Puddles and some undulating sand—it should be noted I’m obsessed with this kind of sand pattern. It’s a personal Shangri-La I’m always keeping a keen eye for. But we all know sand is fleeting so it’s all about being in the right place at the right time. Either way this combination made for an interesting and complex foreground and thus I set myself and my trip up further back than usual. The key takeaway is this: even though we as shooters return to the same location over and over again doesn’t mean our shots ever have to be the same. Between the sky, natural processes such as erosion, the change of seasons, and even a little rain and/or tidal flooding can make all the difference in rendering subtle changes to seemingly familiar surroundings. No two photographs are ever the same no matter where you stand.

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  • Moonlight Tonight

    Wide angle landscape photograph of a Full Moon over marsh at blue hour
    Moonlight Tonight — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | EXP 10 sec

    Peering through my driver side mirror at 7:02 a.m., having just crossed the Delaware River—Turnpike Toll Bridge into Pennsylvania ,I saw what I thought would be my best shot of the day. My mirror showed the truth: sunrise was gorgeous, and there I was stuck in my car en route from my home state of New Jersey to facilitate a training session for work. The fiery sky was remarkable, grade A stuff, and I had little recourse but to chuckle at my misfortune of missing a sunrise I was actually awake for. Alas bills must be paid, and this guy must digress.

    Home in time for a sunset I assumed I’d bag a good one at the usual stomping grounds. Upon arrival I immediately noticed what appeared to be a Full Moon breaching the northeastern horizon. Content to ignore our natural satellite I set up for sunset. Unfortunately sunset never came. Well, it did—it just happened to be a total letdown. What I could have sworn was an ideal cloud deck resulted in colorless vapor. I was giddy thinking the end of day would watch this morning’s glory but #nope.

    Well into blue hour and hoping to salvage the shoot, I moved my tripod to the other side of the road and made for the Moon. In hindsight I’m pretty damn pleased I did. I don’t have many Moon shots—in fact I don’t think there’s a single one on this website—so it’s nice to add a nice new wrinkle to the cache. I hope you enjoy.

    Related: October has been a good month for photos, and it was needed after a slow September.

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