Greg Molyneux Photography

Tag: cedar run dock road

Cedar Run Dock Road photography made by Greg Molyneux

  • In Morning

    HDR photograph of sunrise over the green marsh of Cedar Run Dock Road.
    In Morning — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    Wake up for sunrise, they said. It’ll be worth it, they said. Who cares if you’re tired? They said. Well score one for the they said internet meme crowd.

    I’ve been on a photo making tear these past 24 hours; racking up just over 300 exposures between my iPhone and DSLR. I’ve been shutter pressing, Instagram square formatting, Snapchat story making, Periscope broadcasting content creating machine—a legend in my own mind—or something like that.

    Mother Nature brought the goods—a unique northwest facing blue hour last night that I’ll be sure to post in all the usual places over the next few days, as well as some sights from the Seaside Heights boardwalk; finally ending with the sunrise photograph that you see above, taken just after 5:30 this morning. Summer’s in full swing, New Jersey, and I could not be happier.

    As far as this shot goes, it just so happened that after returning from Seaside and waking in a friend’s basement at 4:30 a.m. that the perfect confluence of timing brought me to Dock Road and to this sunrise. I’m not a morning person. This is well documented. But as I was driving home during the wee hours of the morning—just as first light was marking the sky in an ominous kind of deep purple—I knew the camera work would be worth my time. Besides, I could always nap it out after. And that’s exactly what I did.

    Dock Road was perfect this morning. I spent a good hour roadside taking in the sights, the sounds, and the bugs. But even those blasted no-see-ums couldn’t cramp my style. It was Greg Molyneux’s very own version of Sunrise Earth out there. And while I can’t say when my next sunrise will be, I’m sure glad serendipity worked out in my favor this time around.

    Now if you’ll excuse I’m off to spend the rest of the afternoon at the beach.

    Interested in buying? Purchase

  • Lift the Veil

    Low key photograph of the Cedar Run Dock Road Octagon House
    Lift the Veil — 100mm | f/2.8 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/160

    The Weather Gods hath decide to play a cold grey trick on we the residents of coastal New Jersey. After what was a perfect Memorial Day Weekend, the cold, the grey, and the rains have set in. Of course on a macro level while this precipitation is most welcome—drought has been creeping in—it does cramp anyone’s weekend warrior status.

    I made this photograph was made 5 days ago, and we still haven’t seen a reprieve in the weather. (I have a canceled flight to Austin Texas and a weeks worth of fireplace ignition to show for it). I imagine we all like to think of the Jersey Shore come June as a magical place of sandy beaches and warm sunshine. Too bad we’re just not there yet.

    Here’s to the summer warmth that inevitably awaits.

    For the Birders: can I get a little bird help? Is that a cormorant chilling on that post?

  • Never quite the same

    HDR photograph of Antoinetta's Restaurant backdropped by a stunning blue hour over frozen bay and shores.
    Never quite the same — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    Antoinetta’s Restaurant at the end of Cedar Run Dock Road in West Creek, New Jersey has been a go-to spot for years. Long before I even got into this photo taking thing—and long before Antoinetta’s was a thing—I used to take regular cruises down one of the most relaxing four mile drives in the whole of southern Ocean County. Sometimes alone. Sometimes with friends. Whomever came alone this place always hit the spot; even if it was with only myself that I was having conversations.

    Since I launched this website a little over a year ago, this photographs marks the third time I’ve formerly framed up this shot and published. And while on color alone (hey purple!) this could be looked at as the spiritual successor to Winter has its ways, the look still maintains its own essence and vitality. Between tide’s ebb and flow—frozen in this case—and a serendipitous sky palette rendered daily, each unique like the prints upon our fingertips. We photographers benefit insofar as we can visit the same spot time and time again with the excited expectation of a different, unpredictable and sometimes fantastic result.

    So get out there, scout your spots, check your gear, chase the light and shoot there over and over again.

    Interested in buying? Purchase

  • These are the times that revive men’s souls

    Intense pastels color the undulating clouds in this spectacular HDR sunset photograph over a frozen Barnegat Bay.
    These are the times that revive men’s souls — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    Or maybe it’s just the polar infused westerlies smacking me in the face doing the reviving?

    It was cold tonight. Anyone stuck in the Mid-Atlantic to Northeast knows this—and has for sometime if you discount yesterday’s false spring. But when it produces this kind of light the biting cold can just keep on riding that polar express right over my head (and in the face).

    Come 4 p.m. a fairly unusual cloud pattern began setting up across the sky, funneling a unique set of undulating clouds from the southwest horizon. Earnestly marching from a single point of origin, a quick visual scan showed just how this active air was roiling and distorting the clouds with the polar jet’s turbulence rendering a captivating visual result. It was clear in an instant this cloudage coupled with the reinforcing shot of arctic air was cooking up a recipe of near guaranteed sunset success. And when that happens, it doesn’t matter how cold it is—the blood starts pumping, the pulse starts to quicken and the time dilation exacerbates as the excitement of a total payoff washes over you.

    Nights like tonight are precisely why I do this.

    Interested in buying? Purchase

  • Waiting on the Weather

    During a break in the weather clouds part just before sunset coloring the clouds purple and pink in this HDR photograph of the marshes of Cedar Run Dock Road.
    Waiting on the Weather — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    Norlun Trough, I summon thee. And your arctic front. And its squall line.

    Bring all your snow, clouds blazing.

    A little before 4:00 p.m. Manahawkin was facing its first real snow shower of the day. The confluence of a clipper system from the north; an arctic front complete with a serious squall line to the west that will parlay to a coastal transfer, with all signs pointing to an inverted trough (that’s that Norlun thing) setting up somewhere over coastal New Jersey. As a weenietastic snow fan teased and tested by a tedious winter this leaves me twitching but cautiously optimistic.

    I figured as I was homebound waiting for snow all day, that chasing light and making photographs was not in the cards. We had been entrenched in a total cloud deck all day with little reason to think there’d be any kind of break. But sure enough 4:30 p.m. showed up and brought the sun with it. Pumped, I scrambled about the house cartoon style where your legs move for 5 seconds before you actually go anywhere. I packed my things, didn’t break anything and made for Dock Road.

    When I pulled up to my usual spot it was clear my standard sunset thing wasn’t going to play. To the southwest the clouds were returning so that kind of shot was a no go. Fortunately pink clouds were rolling on the northeast side. Here I crouched and made the winter marsh scene above.

    Oh, and Happy Valentine’s Day.

  • Great Expectations

    After Winter Storm Juno skirted the Jersey shore sparing New Jersey from historic snow, the clouds break revealing a sublime winter sunset on the frozen marsh along Cedar Run Dock Road in this HDR photograph.
    Great Expectations — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    I am a snow lover.

    It is a tough day for snow lovers.

    When words like HECS start getting tossed around, and all area mets—up to and including the National Weather Service—go all in on what seems to be a sure fire Miller B transfer event, snow fiends like myself start going into overdrive. Visions of 2–3 inch an hour snow rates, powdery drifts and canyon banks lining neighborhood streets dance in our head. If you love weather—intense weather—few things get the blood pumping quite like Mother Nature standing at the doorstep.

    And yet weather is going to weather. As inevitable as this storm once seemed, a late capture by an upper level low allowed this beast of a coastal to slip just far enough east to spare New Jersey from real substantial impact. In its wake? A running spectrum of emotion across the residents of New Jersey, and many disappointed forecasters taking a beating in the court of public opinion. Predicting the weather is hard—very hard, and these folks are doing the best they can trying to predetermine outcomes in absence of a full dataset and in the presence of variability. By its very nature it is a thankless task, and I hope they just keep doing what they’re doing and continue to roll in favor of calling the next sure thing—even if it might not be.

    In the meantime, I’m going to keep waiting patiently for my first chance to finally photograph a big snow storm. Oh, and how about that sunset tonight? Check out how just how deep the color was in this straight out of camera, cellphone shot I uploaded to Instagram sans filter.

  • Hey, Guy-wire

    An HDR blue hour photograph of a stony bayshore mixed with thin sea ice in the foreground and angle guy-wires in the mid ground plunging into the frozen bay.
    Hey, Guy-wire — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    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.

  • A Christmas Sunset

    An HDR photograph taken at sunset on Christmas Day overlooking the glowing embers of the south marsh from Cedar Run Dock Road.
    A Christmas Sunset — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    It’s December 25th. Christmas Day. With stores closed and roads dead, all was right with the world as I took an easy drive eastward to Dock Road this evening. With high pressure setting up shop for the next few days it was readily apparent the clouds were dying a fast, unceremonious death. Goodbye, clouds. We hardly knew you. But what did I care? Today is Christmas, and I’m going to enjoy myself.

    Considering the fast dissipation of the cloudage, I shot earlier than usual knowing all cloud cover would be gone before the sun settled below the horizon. Opting to get a sun flare and the glowing red ember color that washed over the dead winter marsh grass, temporarily breeding life into the now brown grasses. I’m digging how the light plays along the grasses mixing in with the meandering tidal pools.

  • Going through the motions

    A soft focus HDR photograph taken along the Cedar Run Dock Road marsh at sunset.
    Going through the motions — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    Not the most inspirational of titles, but I’m going with it because it’s topical. I keep writing and rewriting this post only to delete it for sounding like little more than non-stop complaining. So instead of calling the wambulance, I’m just going to say it was nice to be out taking pictures tonight. I needed to break away from the current comings and goings, and even though tonight’s sunset wasn’t the most stunning I still got to spend some quality time out on the marsh. That, and I like the picture I made more than I thought I would, too. So despite my wont to bicker, things really ain’t that bad.

    And speaking of titles: I always (98.7% of the time) go with the first word or phrase that comes to mind when editing my photographs. It’s a habit I started with my 365 Project back in 2012. I rarely deviate from that process. With this shot though, I was literally going through the motions—struggling to come up with something, anything fitting. About an hour later, this is it.