Greg Molyneux Photography

Tag: garden state parkway

  • Lookout Landing

    Lookout Landing

    HDR cross processed photograph of a lone man watching sunset
    Lookout Landing — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    Does this count as self portraiture? I’m not certain but this may count for salvaging a sunset shoot. How salvaged? Only you can be the judge of that. Sunset sits the saddle of boom or bust. For a moment yesterday seemed headed for boom town, but instead just kinda petered out into grey-blue darkness. But that’s all good.

    Eager to make something out of nothing I thought why not hop into my own picture for a change? Could be cool, right? Simply set the timer to 10-seconds and find a spot that seems to be on one of the outer thirds of the frame. Hard to go wrong with the rule of thirds. Once in position I remained as still as possible knowing I was popping off 7 brackets. Total excess I’m sure, but hip-hip-hooray for digital storage.

    The last bit of the workflow brought some cross processing in post production. A final effort to complete a different look that seemed fitting for what was a different kind of shoot. It seemed fitting to layer over a washed out veil of mood. With a new year fast approaching it only makes sense to look ahead to the future with equal parts trepidation and wonder. I’m trying to collect my own thoughts to figure out where my photography should head in 2016. Do I try something completely new? Like portraiture? Revisit some kind of photo project like the one that got all this started in 2012? Identify an area of weakness for focus and improvement? Or maybe try deeper forays into shameless self-promotion? Of course I could follow the Greg Molyneux as water M.O. and seek out the path of least resistance to keep doing what I’m doing? Or some kind of mash-up combination? That said there are two things I do know: 1) I want to do more black and white, and 2) in the very near term I need to get cracking on my best of 2015 post so it’s ready to go come Christmas Eve.

  • Here on the Mullica

    Wide angle HDR photograph of sunset over the Mullica River
    Here on the Mullica — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    Reclaimer of wood and photographer of things, Ben Wurst hosted friends for textbook late summer chilling and grilling this weekend. Naturally, festivities were preceded by an hour long sunset shoot at a location that was for the rest of us in attendance, a brand new spot! We found ourselves tucked away under the Garden State Parkway in Port Republic, NJ, set alongside the southern shore of the Mullica River. Offering both east and west exposures this is a versatile spot that will no doubt take its place in the rotation.

    We were originally onsite so Ben could catch the full moonrise with his 400mm. Too bad it was obvious immediately that wasn’t going to happen; marine layer clouds were draped over the eastern horizon throwing a dripping wet blanket on those plans. The western side wasn’t much better with low level clouds riding the southerly flow. At this point I was milling about chatting with friends while Jackie remained steadfast to the photo plans, dutifully making shots. It was a good time, weather was perfect.

    A few minutes before sundown, what you could see of a mostly cloud obscured sun disk was swallowed by the marine layer haze. With that it was looking more and more likely that a cloud out was inevitable. Driving the impatience further were some feisty appetites and a nice spread waiting back at the reclaimed home base. The natives were restless. Stalling twice for just three more minutes, I began to question whether my efforts were in vain. About 60 seconds from bailing I noticed an oh-so-subtle back build of pastel color brewing toward the east, over the Parkway span. Jackie! I said, we’re golden. And by golden I meant pink.

    The best sunsets always straddle the fine line of oh yeah or oh no. It’s a razor’s edge of hope that there’s just enough gap underneath the clouds along the horizon to give the last photons of the day a chance to get an angle and deflect off the clouds. That’s just what happened Saturday: a near colorless sunset that ignited a good 5-10 minutes after actual sundown, only to smolder for another 15-20 minutes after that. On this day, our position in space and the physical laws of nature were on our side. Oh, and some luck too.

    Update: unbeknownst to me, Ben captured me in the wild setting up for this shot with his 135mm. Good stuff, Ben. I didn’t even see it coming.

  • A quiet place of reflection

    An HDR sunset photograph taken from the aluminum dock overlooking Bass River in New Gretna, New Jersey. With the metal dock marking the foreground, a rich pastel glow colors the sky and water on this near cloudless evening.
    A quiet place of reflection — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    For tonight’s sunset I ventured down to Ben Wurst’s stomping grounds in New Gretna, New Jersey. I haven’t been to this spot since 2012—back when I really had no clue what I was doing—and wanted to get back to take advantage of the deep Winter sun’s still southward position. Come Summer said sun will be well out of my frame to the west (right) of its current location.

    As for the spot itself, it sits tucked away just off Exit 50 on the northbound side of the Garden State Parkway overlooking Bass River. As you can see there’s a raised metal walkway—aluminum I’m guessing—that extends roughly 80 yards over the marsh and into the river itself. It’s one of those little known spots that hides in plain sight; and when it’s not serving as a spot for sunset revelers or those seeking quiet reflection, it represents one hell of a destination to watch lightning march across the marsh. Though don’t try this at home as I am told lightning and metal don’t mix. Hopefully my not-yet-charred remains won’t someday represent something of a cautionary tale…

    As for my thoughts on the photograph itself? This is one of my favorite day-glow sunsets yet. Sure there wasn’t great cloud action tonight, but I was really impressed with the rich pastels coming to life in the glow of atmospheric ice crystals. Sometimes Winter, you’re pretty all right.