Harvey Cedars locked in ice. A beach paradise locked and bound in frozen bonds of wind driven snow, ice and unstoppable cold. The arctic has found its way south and wrought with it a landscape better tuned to penguins.
Trudging through Harvey Cedars Sunset Park I felt myself alternating discomfort and awe. Foremost was the wonderment. I strode incredulous among magnificent shapes carved by the master hand of wind driven snow. Three to six foot mounds of stratified snow dunes in all directions. Features that would look more at home marking the desert sands. The juxtaposition made more striking contrasted against wide swaths of grass and stone blown free of any trace of snow. This is mind-boggling considering the foot plus that dropped up and down the New Jersey coast less than 24 hours ago. As the snow was busying itself building mesmerizing drifts it was leaving whole swathes of park untouched. Never before have my eyes seen its equal.
Enhancing the displaced winter landscape was the transformation of Barnegat Bay. This familiar waterway left frozen solid and topped with reticulated patterns stretching to the horizon. Any vestige of the summer paradise fell away as it bent the knee before the reign of ice.
Through my wonder a crippling west wind carrying biting cold air tested my limits. Setting up to shoot headfirst into 20 mph sustained winds posed a threat to exposed skin. Despite my layers and heavy dress I struggled for comfort. In a battle of diminishing returns against a relentless enemy I made a few dozen exposures over span of 45 minutes. I will share one or two more photographs in the coming days. In the meantime I am off to thaw a replay the magic frozen before me.
Before making my way to LBIF and the soda kiln firing this past Friday I stopped off at the aptly named Harvey Cedars Sunset Park fishing for a sunset. Shocking, right? Pre-sunset conditions looked great—ample high level cirrus clouds stretched the sky and a subsequent light show seemed inevitable. Mother Nature, of course, is never completely predictable despite our best deductions. As the sun faded so too the the clouds fell away leaving a large blue palette behind the lone stretch of remnant clouds you can see above.
This all worked out for the best as I was struggling to find a composition. I spent 20 minutes hopping from one position to another. Modest leading lines and ho-hum foreground was leaving me vexed. The pressure was off as the sky was hardly popping off, but this was still a brow-furrowing endeavor as I prefer to not overthink my photo making process. More often than not I settle into a sufficient frame with little effort and even less conscious thought. I shoot by feel—this keeps photography a liberating enterprise in my life. I struggle with decision making in most other things so it’s a mental break to not go through the machinations of second guessing when I am out shooting.
Is there a lesson to be learned in all this? I don’t know, probably. I will say this, however, the final photograph—while no threat to my personal list of favorites—is not quite the throwaway I expected.
Ray of Hope — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
Much needed rain falls and here I sit content at my computer hammering out a post for a photograph I made last night. It was only yesterday happenstance and convenience brought me to Harvey Cedars Sunset Park after an art show at Long Beach Island Foundation of the Arts and Sciences. You see it was only two days ago I learned I had a photo in an art show, and it was only yesterday I learned said art show’s opening was set to take place only hours later. Considering my recovery attendance was hardly mandatory, but in my own head it would be welcome. Feeling well enough and eager to get out of the house I made my way.
The evening went on well enough. Finely dressed LBIF patrons donning pastel polos, flowing linens while strapped in sandals with casually done up hair and designer sunglasses milled about the main gallery. Seasoned veterans of art and culture made purposeful gazes and meaningful nods while doling out learned platitudes toward many of the pieces on display. Trapped in my own ignorance I was just there for the food—and was wearing a polo of my own. Before me a fine spread of items I can’t pronounce, ingredients I don’t understand, and elaborate skewers contorted into the most circuitous of shapes. I supposed that’s one way to cut down on the speed with which one eats? This offered quite a juxtaposition to the Coors Light bottles posted on the table’s right flank. Perhaps a purposeful dichotomy? Or is safer to assume one cannot get through an art show without a touch of irony?
After the show’s juror said some kind words toward a few of the real standout pieces, things really got serious as the evening made a welcomed pivot to a Pokémon GO gym takedown. My first such battle. With our Team Valor ranks full we made our stand and usurped power from the gym perviously held by Team Mystic. I didn’t know what the hell was going on as I fervently tapped the screen but we won, and maybe I’ve at least made it sound cool? OK, no? Moving on…
With the digital madness behind us I made my next pivot of the evening to the cloud structure and crepuscular rays fanning out across the marsh behind the Foundation. Clearly it was time to go for the camera. For the next 20 minutes or so I put the 35mm to work at LBIF. Golden hour was peaking but my muse turned toward sunset—my inescapable mistress. Knowing Harvey Cedars Sunset Park was but a few miles south I declared my intentions to my friends, my clan, my Team Valor, and made my egress and turned toward the park. Sunset was now the name of the game.
As I walked out to the jetty rock I set up shop with tripod and camera. The park was well attended—as it should be on a stellar summer evening—and many folks were set about the benches to take in the day’s last goodbye with friends and loved ones. Almost immediately I was joined by a mother-daughter combo making photos on their iPhones. They noted my gear and ostensible seriousness which always makes me a touch self-conscious as I feel it ups expectations of my photo output. Admittedly this is most likely self-conscious me overthinking an otherwise benign situation. Not long after I was joined by my Team Valor patriots and we went about our time spending the next half hour taking in a glorious Saturday evening in August. With my health in flux these past few months the calming scene and beaming sunset rays filled me with a wellspring of hope for the future.
I, Phragmites — 35mm | f/1.4 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/4000
Phragmites are an invasive species robbing valuable real estate from indigenous plant life due to the dense stands that’ll readily form and quickly grow. Efficiently conquering pristine lands like an imperialist in heat. To the uninitiated conquistador like me, they seemingly fit right in to the natural surroundings—adding almost picturesque sight lines that appear to fit right in to any naturally occurring coastal Mid-Atlantic landscape. It was only recently I learned they weren’t supposed to be here. But many of us aren’t supposed to be here, are we?
On just about any day that ends in ‘Y’ I certainly feel like a phragmites. A central Jersey transplant to Manahawkin, New Jersey, in the summer of ’93 I’ve always felt something of an outsider to the region. My insecure sense of being as coastal imposter only magnifies when I venture over to the nearby barrier island that is Long Beach Island. Here I’m twice removed; not just a Mainlander but a suburban sprawl transplant as well. You see no matter how hard I try, I’ll never climb the podium to gain acceptance as a True Local™. Sure I can wear flip-flops year round, pretend I’m clued into the the scene, all while living a few short miles from the beach, but I’ll never be one of The People. If only in my own mind.
But this is all our struggle, isn’t it? Just where to fit in?
On Second Thought — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | EXP 0.6 sec
Sometimes your shoot won’t go exactly as planned. This is OK. This afternoon my buddy Jon and I were hoping for some sunset drama. As it does the big time boom or bust sunsets ride a razor’s edge of yay or nay. Today it missed. It happens.
Walking back to the car and at peace with said miss, my eyes quickly looked north to find sweeping blue clouds. Then downward to the illuminated houses out on the horizon; finally setting on the phragmites up in the foreground. The blue hour tones were soothing and the contour line of the jetty rock perfectly aligned with the left to right swoop up in the clouds. With a few clicks of the tripod this entire process was over and done with within a span of 20 seconds. Sometimes shots happen fast. At home in post processing I opted on the square format display ratio, deciding it tightened the overall composition.
In their own way I hold a fondness for shoots like tonight. It’s a good test for the eye to come up with something else when your plan falls through. It’s a useful exercise in staying open to new possibilities, and as an added benefit the time crunch of fading light gets you to work fast relying on instinct.
Lamentations Fall Before the Light — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
And to think that for even a second I considered not going out to shoot on account of ominous clouds rolling in from the southwest.
I’d like to think I take some solid landscape photographs—with sunsets obviously being my thing. But for all my merit, I still don’t think I captured the righteousness of this evening’s sunset. Proof I still have much to learn before I ever think I’ve mastered this craft. The glow that set fire to the sky quickened my heart and delighted my senses. Leaving me wearing little more than a child’s uncontainable grin. If not the best, this easily finds a space comfortably in my personal top five. This is the kind of unspoken light that fuels the soul.
There were plenty other revelers taking in Nature’s work at Harvey Cedars Sunset Park this evening. Though I fear many folks bounced too early, missing the awe that came before us. As I was running around the park, trying to find my desired angle, I could feel something special unfolding. A pink glow was creeping from the horizon and over the next several minutes the color drove eastward, igniting overhead. Viewfinder ablaze, I quickly texted my buddy—also shooting at the park—remarking just how lucky we were. In there interest of full disclosure there may or may not been a few enthusiastic expletives tossed in for good measure.
All I know is that I am fired up. Thank you Mother Nature for being as unpredictable as you are great.
A frozen bay belies the weather — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
We’re wrapping up what’s easily been the coldest stretch of weather we’ve felt over the 2014–2015 Winter—and the New Jersey Intracoastal Waterway has the frozen bays to prove it. Knowing the temperatures would be moderating as soon as tomorrow (can you believe it’s going to rain after this bitter cold week!?), I wanted to get over to Harvey Cedars Sunset Park to capture the not-so-common sight of an ice entombed Barnegat Bay. While the sunset color didn’t explode this afternoon, the sights I was treated to out on the point made enduring an hour of uninterrupted cold completely worth it. My mood soared immediately upon arrival; my body and mind both were in need of this photographic ice world therapy session.
For much of my time at this ephemeral Fortress of Solitude I was transfixed by the undulating, serpentine patterns of ice locked motionless from the freeze. I’m amazed at the transformation ice can bring to a summertime haven of warmth and water that I know so well. It’s nature’s way of teaching the duality of life—as well as its impermanence. And yet all I can think of is Yogi Berra opining, “you can observe a lot by watching.”
