Greg Molyneux Photography

Tag: great bay boulevard

  • What Once Was

    Wide angle HDR photograph of an abandoned marina and a reflective sunset on Great Bay
    What Once Was — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    Yesterday was the kind of day that drives home the Fall is the best season! mantra that gets bandied about heavily as the back to school season returns. Ever the contrarian, I’m not exactly Fall’s biggest advocate, but even I will concede to some of its merits; specifically those that involve the room temperatures and stunning visuals—bonfires are cool too.

    Last night was glorious: the temperature and the sights. The crowds and bugs were scarce and conditions were ripe for restorative inhales. Jackie—the better half of the Jackie and Joe show, collectively known as The Joackie, gets all the credit for calling the spot. With late afternoon cirrus spanning the sky sunset plans were set into motion early. Great Bay Boulevard was the target, and at that moment I assumed we’d be setting up shop at my usual spot. Instead, as we were passing it by, Jackie piped up in favor of heading down to the old marina. This decision would prove most wise.

    Upon arrival I was immediately convinced Jackie’s audible was without doubt the right call. Disused slips where boats once moored. The crooked remains of a seafaring past. Mirroring where we may tie up tomorrow. Whatever you want to call it? However poetic you want to get? A good foreground it sure does make.

  • Unplanned Deviation

    HDR photograph of a summer sunset over marsh and estuary
    Unplanned Deviation — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    Under normal circumstances my own personal photographer’s modus operandi brings me to a set location of my choosing, and this decision is most always made before I even step out the front door. Yesterday afternoon, as I was jogging the park and watching the late day clouds fade as they are wont to do, I figured shooting wasn’t going to happen last night. No big deal. Another free summer night. And yet, about an hour before sunset as I was enjoying a doppio at the local Fauxbucks, I spied with my little eyes promising cloud formations building to the south and west. Sweet! I am in luck. And to those who saw me peaking out the inch of open window underneath the blinds, I apologize for my strangeness.

    Before I was even back to my house to collect my gear, my heart and mind was set on Stafford Forge. It had been quite some time since I had shot there, and with little to no wind it seemed a good choice; glassy water does make for unparalleled mirrored reflections, after all. Alas as I was cruising down the parkway, windows down and NPR blasting—I know, I really know how to party—I noticed lots of activity at the Forge. Numerous cars and some Park Rangers. Ever the anti-socialite, I thought, welp, so much for that, onto Great Bay Boulevard.

    All of this is just a long way to say, while I most never balk and change up on locations, last night I was sure glad I did. To hell with my M.O.! A most serendipitous unplanned deviation brought me to this spot. With this light. Under the shelter of some of the most glorious high pressure and comfortable temperatures you can imagine. For us folks along the NJ coast, better weather almost never comes our way. Everything about last night was perfection—even if my targeted spot wasn’t.

    Interested in buying? Purchase

  • Break the Cycle

    Rain clouds part just after sundown revealing deep blues, pinks, purples and reds in this wide angle HDR sunset photograph taken along the south marsh next to Great Bay Boulevard.
    Break the Cycle — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    I’ll try to keep the whining to a minimum lest we call the wambulance. But man! It feels like forever since I’ve managed to catch up with some potent light come sundown. Between life, cloud-outs, a protracted winter and just a whole bunch of bad timing this has to be the longest photo drought in my three plus years of shooting. The last six weeks have been rough, man.

    Fighting the temptation to nap it out I opted to roll the dice on the still cloudy skies and head south toward Great Bay Boulevard. This decision paid off in spades. I had parting clouds, low tide with dead calm water and plenty of pretty pastels. Everything was ideal. I was back in my element. Me, my camera and the sky.

  • Waving in the marsh grass

    Windswept marsh grass is photographed with late afternoon sun backlighting pastel clouds of blue, pink and yellow bringing the seeds to life with golden color.
    Waving in the marsh grass — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/15

    Make the wind do the work for you. It was blustery yesterday, and I capitalized on this by having a lazy enough shutter (1/15 of second) to allow the wind to create the slightest hint of movement in the photograph. You can just start to notice it in the bushels of marsh grass seed that look oh so slightly out of focus throughout the lower half of the photograph.

    I’ve been craving a glowing shot of marsh grass ever since I’ve been photographing New Jersey marshland; one really featuring the marsh grass itself. This one is my new favorite. The warm glow and soft motion backdropped by dramatic clouds of pink and yellow pastels captures the essence I seek quite well.

  • Feels like the first time

    Looking for a dramatic sunset photograph? Here it is, an HDR marsh sunset in all its saturated color glory. Strong shadows and deep contrast are the hallmark of this seascape picture.
    Feels like the first time — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    I haven’t been out shooting once since October 26th. October 26th! I don’t think I’m exaggerating when I say that’s my longest photo-less stretch since I began this whole picture taking fiasco New Year’s Day 2012. This camera cessation was not planned, and suffice it to say I’ve been jonesing.

    All day the clouds were spectacular. Low, dark, puffy and fast moving they hinted at the threat of sun-showers all day. Since I was already down in the Great Bay Boulevard area picking up four of my reclaimed wood framed prints from my good buddy Ben Wurst, I knew that’s where I’d head for sunset. Tonight did not disappoint. I’m hard pressed to recall a Fall sky more fierce. The shadow play on the clouds dripping in red scarlet color was really something else. Tonight there were several other revelers out there with me, and that’s always good to see.

  • Day 5 of 5: Take a walk

    A gritty, grainy black and white wide angle photograph of a wooden pedestrian path along an old bridge spanning the Great Bay Boulevard salt marsh
    Take a walk — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/60

    Here it is, folks. My last shot for the #fivedayblackandwhitechallenge. It’s been a fun departure from my standard photographic modus operandi, but with that said I’m ready to get back to my usual photo grind. Thanks for hanging with me during this brief divergence from the status quo.

    Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5

  • Just another marsh shot

    An HDR photograph taken of the salt marsh on the south side of Great Bay Boulevard during golden hour.
    Just another marsh shot — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    Here’s my other shot from Monday. The shot I had all set up and dialed in before plans changed. It worked out for the best since I walked away with two keepers. And while I’m hardly a math magician even I can surmise two is greater than one.

    While compositionally sound, what I like most about this shot is the essence it captures. This is the Jersey Shore I know and love. The backwater coastal ways, the estuaries, the salt marsh. It’s where I find my peace.

    Long before I was into picture taking, I would take drives to the marsh—often with friends—to just take in the scene. Away from the angst and bustle of the real world, the busy world. We all need place where we can take a step back and decompress. That’s what the marsh is for me.

    Milestone alert: While yesterday was my 100th post on this website, this here shot is the 100th image I’ve shared. Thanks to all those who have visited, and thanks to all of those who someday will. Cheers.

  • You gotta move

    A serene coastline photographed at blue hour and processed for HDR; algae laden driftwood pieces mark the foreground with wisps of pink clouds setting beyond an old bridge and cool blue skies.
    You gotta move — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    Photography rule #648: be adaptable.

    Photography rule #648a: be fast—with your adaptability and your feet.

    In photography as it is with life, it’s always good to have a plan. Not just for the structure, but more for the mindset it creates. A mindset that has us thinking about our craft long before and long after we’re out in the field executing. Through the iteration our work becomes better and more our own. And our hairs grow grayer, too!

    Last night’s plan was all about heading south to Great Bay Boulevard to make the most of an ideal late afternoon cloud setup coupled with a perfectly timed low tide. Things were looking up!

    My buddy and I arrived on scene about an hour before sundown and everything looked great. After scouting a composition the minutes passed and the sky grew more bleak. Figures. Low level clouds made their way in, draping the southwestern horizon. Things went from good to bad in the span of 20 minutes, and this sunset, like many before before it, had bust written all over it.

    6:50 p.m. About five minutes past sunset. Nothing but blues and grays. No color in sight.

    Then Jon calls over, “check out over there.” I look to the northwest over my right shoulder to spot Jon’s finger pointing off along the horizon. A lone jet of pink streaking across the western horizon off toward the north. Perplexed I kinda stood there for a minute or two more amazed than anything else.

    6:55 p.m. Ten minutes past sundown. The pink is growing.

    Things are escalating quickly. The northwestern sky is lighting up pink and it’s spreading quickly. Too bad it’s spreading nowhere near my shot. All the color stayed to the northwest, a real oddity for sunset light.

    At this moment I knew I had to move. And fast. Decisively I scooped my tripod, camera fixed to its head, and began a 200m sprint toward the bayside beach. Running like a soldier with a rifle, I had my setup cradled and moved as quick as my 32 year old wheels would allow. I can still pick ’em up and lay ’em down.

    Knowing I had no more than five minutes of color left (max!) I arrived to the bay beach. I looked left. I looked right. I Spotted some neat driftwood and knew that was my foreground. It’s not like I had time to explore other options. Above is the shot I exposed. Who the hell needs a plan anyway?

  • And the orange glow

    A low key HDR sunset photograph overlooking the tidal overflow of a lagoon flowing through a salt marsh.
    And the orange glow — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    I came away with two shots from last night’s sunset shoot. The one I posted yesterday and the one you see above. Only minutes after the first photograph, the sky had undergone a rapid transformation. From the deep blue sky and dramatic clouds to the smooth orange glow backed by an almost turquoise sky that we see here. Once that sun came under the cloud draping just over the horizon the warmth of the sunlight changed—dialing up the orange and yellow and intensifying shadows. This is a big part of what make sunset (or sunrise) so exciting—you can have numerous stunning scenes in the span of one half hour.