Kicking it back to Monday evening, back to Ship BottomSunset Point. (That’s two shots in a row!) Only this time I tried my hand with vertical orientation—or portrait orientation—camera work. Unlike run-of-the-mill horizontal orientation, it’s a technique that doesn’t come easy to me; but it’s hard to argue with its intrigue—particularly at wide angles. I think it works best when you have low level foreground with which to get up close and personal. From there angle your frame such that you have roughly two-thirds of the ground composed and you are good to go.
Now for some self-critique: I may have gotten a little too close to my foreground. My mistake is betrayed by the loss of focus in the very bottom section of the frame. Had I been more aware I could have 1) backed my tripod up another inch or two, or 2) stopped down to f/16 or f/22. I typically don’t like stopping down that much as it does start to diffuse your photograph’s overall focus. It does, however, widen the overall acceptable field of focus. Trade-offs, man. It’s all about trade-offs.
Monday night after doing the 9–5 thing I made my way to Ship BottomSunset Point. It had been a while since I did some photo things from this Long Beach Island location. It’s a cool little spot nestled bayside, and it holds a tender place in the Greg Molyneux memory bank. For three seasons (2003-2005) I spent my summer days working for Ship Bottom Public Works. Great times with great friends, and a cool full time staff of dudes to boot. I learned a lot those three summers, and I miss it from time-to-time.
Walking through the park my mind was oscillating back and forth between the then and now; first considering how well manicured and pruned up the park is, then panning to past memories and an unavoidable lament of where the hell the time has gone? Life is full of these moments I suppose. Past. Present. Future. Events and people long gone. This wasn’t a sad experience, however. Instead there was an upwelling, an appreciation for the opportunity and for the good times had by all. May the joys of youth forever shine.
Say Goodbye Don’t Follow — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
Easily the best scene/lighting/sunset/awesomesauce combo since this and this happened back in early December 2015. Six months, folks. The good stuff doesn’t come around all too often; and that is precisely what makes this hobby worthwhile. The hunt. The chase. The busted failures en route to most welcomed and ofttimes unexpected successes. Landscape photography is a great, albeit fickle beast, you guys.
Ocean County, New Jersey was socked in rain for most of the day on Friday, but Mr. Weather NJ was on top of things. A look at the frontal passage on the water vapor loop let him know the break in the weather would more than likely time up well with sunset. Little did we know it’d be perfect. Serendipity, folks, it’s necessary when you’re photographing nature. We’ve gotta be there, sure; Mother Nature, however, has to bring the goods. That’s how it played out last night amidst the dank air of Cedar Run Dock Road. A multilayered cloud deck began to pull apart, and light poured through as we watched said clouds ignite into an array of pastel beauty. Combine that with the dying wind that brought a glass sheen to the surface of the waterway and you’re cooking with all the right ingredients for a real deal fist-pumper.
Chilling on scene with Jeff and Jon we spent a good 45 minutes in relative silence and maximum awe. The only thing that cut through the silence was a loan boater that came creeping through—no wake zones are important, thanks for going slow—leaving perfect wrinkles upon what was moments before pristinely flat water. The look of the subtle waves left in his wake was mesmerizing. Pink and purple prisms moving eastward as though a table cloth was most gently removed from a grand table with the steady hand of years of precision. Better yet was the jam the young dude on the center console had blasting over the marsh. Whatever that slow jam was, I dig it. In fact, we spent the better part of the night fireside at Ben’s trying to puzzle out the tune. Alas.
Within the quieted moments of sunset fulfillment I’m want to reflect on the ephemeral nature and never ending quest for the perfect sky. These moments come and go. Hold onto them as they arise, drop them as the leave. From there, with a smile on your face move on and work toward the next great moment. There’s a zen in all this infinitely worth seeking even when you’re kicking yourself during the next 10 busts.
Please Don’t Go — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
Mid-Atlantic folks know the sun has been scarce lately. Vacationing somewhere known as Not Here. And while it’s raining as I type the sun did show its face last night at Stafford Forge Wildlife Management Area. It was so nice. Lord, it was lovey-dovey. With the Forge unpopulated and the winds calm, glassy mirrored reflections were the order of the day. The perfect medium for bouncing pastel color illuminating cotton candy clouds. These are restorative moments, people. The doses of goodness that sustain us through the daily grind and ofttimes madness of the world. Let us be mindful of all that is great and right in this world.
Max Relax — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
Between the hour of 7:20 p.m–8:20 p.m. Cedar Run Dock Road was the unequivocal place to be for denizens of southern Ocean County. Conditions were perfect. I’m talking A+. 10 out of 10. Would do again. And folks, I’m not even talking about the sunset. It was one of those salt marsh nights you’re more than like to read about it a book. An evening that comes around maybe a handful of times per year. Room temperature conditions with zero wind, fully absent humidity; bugs nowhere to be found; crips, clear golden light pouring over the emerald green sedge grasses; with migratory birds making way with their evening meal. Pure perfection. Maximum relaxation achievement unlocked. That sunset? While beautiful and serene in its own right was little more than icing on the cake.
All Too Familiar — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/80
Hey, New Jersey! Maybe you’ve noticed it’s been raining? Or maybe you live under a rock? In which case you’ve more than likely been claimed by the Drowned God. It’s been over a week now and it seems to be the only weather we know. This photo is actually a throwback to April 26 when a pattern flipping cold front powered through the mid-Atlantic bringing strong storms and powerful straight line winds to the region. Since that day it seems we’ve been in omega block city—only we’ve been on the wrong side of said block. The cold, wet, raw side. Not exactly the pattern anyone wants in late-April, early-May. Unless of course a sea of endless grey is your thing. While it looks as though a few breaks in the clouds may appear over the next couple days, it seems we’re heading right back into the soup for much of next week. To modify the cliché, April flowers bring grey skies to May that never end. Welcome to Ireland, New Jersey.
Heh, fittingly enough Jerry Garcia & David Grisman’s “Dreadful Wind And Rain” just randomly queued up on my iTunes as I finished paragraph one. If I could go back and do it all over again, I think that’s what I should have titled this shot. Alas, hooray for a fitting coincidence. Now where is that blasted Sun?
Hasn’t It Always Been So? — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
A sunset stopped by this past Monday while I was tucked away among the trees at Stafford Forge. The usual spots were occupied by human types, and the isthmus was flooded over by elevated lake levels. Short on time I buried myself in the trees along the lakeside.
Spring Marsh — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
I made my way to Cedar Run Dock Road Sunday evening. While I wasn’t greeted with the exact sunset I was hoping for, I was welcomed with surefire signs of Spring. Ospreys perched on their platform; various seabirds I cannot identify—an ornithologist I am not—plucking out easy meals in the friendly confines of harbored tide pools; and sparks of green signaling the sedge grass’ return to life. A sight for sore eyes all after months enduring the Great Browning. From here on out conditions on the marsh should only get better. The sedge will grow and thrive, providing ample cover for productive marsh habitat simultaneously becoming more picturesque. Before long tall waving grasses colored in deep rich greens will fill our foreground and middle ground. Good times.
This shot? Again? Really? If you’re thinking we’ve been here before you’re certainly right. In an effort to get comfortable shooting landscapes at a 35mm focal length, last night I returned—if not in triumph, then in repetition—to the familiar stomping grounds of Antoinetta’s Restaurant. The logic was twofold: 1) I was short on time leaving Dock Road as one of few sunset options, and 2) if you’re testing out the landscape prowess of a new lens it’s probably best to benchmark from a location and frame you’ve successfully photographed before. Having made some winners from this spot in the past, it made as much good sense as any.
Having made my first set of brackets fixed atop a tripod using manual focus, my initial thoughts of the 35mm wide angle in comparison to its 14mm ultra wide angle focal length counterpart are as follows: (For referenced I’ve included a similarly framed shot of Antoinetta’s photographed at 14mm below.)
Staring down the 35mm makes you appreciate just how remarkably wide a 14mm focal length is—I’m roughly in the same spot as in the 14mm rendition below, yet you get the sense I’m substantially closer in the photo above. It’s a significantly tighter frame.
With a tighter focal length, though still technically wide angle, the 35mm creates less distortion in the perspective. You’ll notice the restaurant (pictured top right) has straighter, less angled lines—particularly obvious along the roof. The perspective moving the eye toward the vanishing point is far less extreme than at 14mm.
For a first pass the color and sharpness seem pretty good. At this point I am fully confident with dialing in manual focus on my 14mm. To such a degree I don’t even check to ensure I’m dialed in. I simply need to look at the position of the focus ring. It’s going to take some time with the 35mm, but through early testing the 35mm is proving plenty sharp.
Roughly three weeks in, and I am satisfied with my latest gear acquisition thus far. Still a work in progress and despite being another prime lens, the 35mm focal length is proving its versatility.
