Greg Molyneux Photography

Tag: cedar run dock road

Cedar Run Dock Road photography made by Greg Molyneux

  • Color me bayside

    Winter sunset colors and clouds rolling in from the west, dramatically backdropping Antoinetta's restaurant over Manahawkin Bay in this HDR photograph.
    Color me bayside — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    Winter sunsets, man. So hard to beat. When I don’t get enough camera time I really start to miss it. It doesn’t take long either. There’s just something about regular, near daily shooting that regulates my mood. And I guess that’s the hallmark of any therapeutic hobby, really. That chance to decompress and slip away from the daily grind to recalibrate.

    Lately, however, life has gotten in the way and Mother Nature has hardly been the most cooperative, either; leaving me cloudless or entirely clouded out. But that’s just the way it goes, I guess. This afternoon, after saying goodbye and celebrating the life of an unparalleled man who meant so much to so many, a clear day turned variably cloudy allowing the waning light of day to do its thing.

    Thanks, Dr. Wurst. You will be missed.

  • Seriously cirrus

    Cirrus clouds tinted gold brush the whole of the sky in this late Fall marsh landscape photograph with soft tones easing and subduing the viewer's eye.
    Seriously cirrus — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/250

    Sunset didn’t work out but golden hour sure did. By the time twenty five more minutes had elapsed, the abundant cirrus clouds you see above had raced off to the north and east, leaving a near endless expanse of open sky. And while the whole of it was quite relaxing to witness, it wasn’t much to photograph. Fortunately I was early enough to get this shot, and I just can’t get over that golden glow. Light sure does some pretty amazing things in Fall (thanks sun angle).

    Also, if you’ll notice to the right of the sun there’s a lens flare in this picture—appearing as a red smudge. Unscientifically I’d say that 80% of the time this annoys and distracts me, but here I think it works. Just one of those things that sometimes pans out. Happy accidents and such.

  • By myself but not alone

    A blue hour photograph of Dock Road's north marsh on a calm Fall evening. No wind allowed a glassy reflection on the marsh estuary, mirroring the clouds
    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

    Blue hour in HDR. Taken over Dock Road's southern marsh just after sunset, this photograph features soft tones, cool blues, and understated clouds
    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.

  • The winds of change

    An early Fall HDR cross processed photograph taken at sunset over the south marsh of Cedar Run Dock Road.
    The winds of change — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    Few things reinvigorate the spirit like a change in weather. The clouds break, the winds turn and cold, fresh air pours down clean and clear from the northwest. Like a steam roller of inevitability it reminds us winter is coming.

    Today was one of those all kind of weather days. Morning took us into early afternoon with clouds, rain, and a dank humid warmth. The afternoon gave way to glow of sunshine and a flash of warmth; a feint reminder of summer gone by. But come sunset the winds had changed and the cold began its lurch across the state. We’re heading down into the low 40s for the the overnight and by morning we’ll all be hugging our loved ones a bit little tighter.

  • Making my way

    A cross processed street level photograph of a lone car approaching, headlights on. Power lines and clouds mark the background
    Making my way — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/8

    Tonight I had solid clouds to work with but no color. Not exactly sure what to shoot I knelt down roadside, hands cupping my camera no more than an inch above the asphalt. The first test shot showed a promising composition. A second later I heard a car approaching, roughly a half a mile out.

    Knowing the photograph I hoped to produce, car approaching, camera aimed blind in nothing more than a general direction, I depressed the shutter. A quick glance down at the viewfinder showed luck was on my side. Success.

    Fun fact: This is post number 100 since the January launch. Woohoo!

  • Down in it

    Taken at sunset this marsh grass photograph is from a closeup perspective with a shallow depth of field.
    Down in it — 40mm | f/2.8 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/160

    I took fifteen shots tonight. This was the first. Taken blind from an outstretched arm dangling inches from the ground. Sometimes it works out that way.

    Other than purposefully taking this shot wide open it was a crap shoot; a hopeful aim in a general direction—in this case at marsh grass backed-up by the setting sun. I’d say this was a nice change of piece to my usual sunset routine.

  • A narrower view

    Late summer HDR sunset taken over the south marsh of Cedar Run Dock Road.
    A narrower view — 40mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 3 Bracketed Exposures

    Just about everything was different with tonight’s shoot. For whatever reason I hopped out of the car, scanned the scene, and decided today would be a good day for shooting with my 40mm. It’s not too often I shoot landscape with my 40mm pancake, and considering today’s results I’d do best to work it into the landscape/sunset rotation on the regular. Seriously, this is the work of three bracketed shots—handheld no less—on a prime lens that costs a little over $100! I can’t recommend it enough, especially for the full frame shooters out there.

    The other departure from the norm, aside from ditching the tripod and bailing on my usual manual focusing with my 14mm, came from Mother Nature herself. More often than not—it unscientifically feels greater than 90% in my experience—the optimal color range occurs after the sun goes down. By the time I grabbed my tripod, switched to my 14mm, and waited for the sun to sink below horizontal, the best light had come and gone. It was my 40 and my bare hands that made it work tonight. Photography is never without surprises.

  • The purpling storm

    The purpling storm

    Long exposure lightning photography taken from Cedar Run Dock Road. Cloud to cloud lightning ignites the sky in an electrified purple glow.
    The purpling storm — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 800 | EXP 30 sec

    With Summer winding down last night offered what may turn out to be a last chance storm chasing session for the season—not that I’ve had any storm chasing sessions this season, but I digress…

    As the clock passed 10 with a line of thunderstorms approaching, I had the opportunity to head out to Dock Road to take some photographs. I went out with a buddy (storm chasing is much better with a friend) and set up ye olde trusty tripod facing toward the south. With lightning firing 360 degrees around us it didn’t take long for the spookiness to set in. Maybe it’s just me, but it’s a bit scary holding a metal object in the middle of a marsh plain surrounded by storms.

    As we were out of the car shooting from the road’s shoulder, nervous about all the electricity, we began negotiating how minutes we had before we absolutely had to bail and get back in the car. As we were down to about two minutes left, with cloud to cloud lightning crackling all around, we heard the loud drone of what sounded like a boat. Get the hell out of here, we thought. But sure enough, there it was, a small outboard motoring down the marsh, racing to get back to dock. As bugged out as we were, I can’t imagine what those steaming in on the water were thinking. Oh, and the boat had no light’s either, so there’s that.