Perhaps this is Goodbye? — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
Be it superstition, confirmation bias, or an actual demonstrable trend to which I have neither the data nor scientific awareness to prove, pre-storm sunset skies always seem to deliver. Today sure fit the narrative. Anticipating winter storm Jonas’ arrival has ground my personal perception of time to a relative halt. Since Monday night the hours, such as they are, have ticked by like days as I click weary-eyed from one model run to another, waiting interminably on weather to arrive. Yet no matter what the models show me, and despite the Blizzard Watch we’re sitting under currently, the pangs of last year’s bust at the hands of Juno gnaw away at my insides. I just want the snow to get here, stay here, and with any, luck bring little to no rain to southeastern New Jersey. Of course that toasty Atlantic Ocean looms large, ready to push warm maritime air onto our shores if the center of low pressure creeps close enough.
But let’s push my selfishness aside for a second, coastal flooding and beach erosion is the real concern here. But as the far less sexy story overshadowed by the high probability of widespread 12″ snow across much of the Mid-Atlantic, the tidal implications of a roiling ocean have been lost in the shuffle. We’re looking at an extended storm with a duration over 24 hours complete with a broad wind field of tightly packed isobars slinging wind gusts of around 60mph onto New Jersey shores. It’s subsequent storm surge will be aided by an ill-timed Full Moon giving an unneeded boost to already moderate to major tide heights. At least three high tides will be affected from Saturday morning through Sunday evening.
It is with this reality I title my post. Understanding the marina is now state owned and seemingly set to restore to its natural state, there’s a good change this little cove will look quite different as soon as Monday. These derelict posts of wood that once gave aid to docks and quays may soon be little more than a memory. This is why in considering where on Great Bay Boulevard to photograph today I recalled the wise words of Ben Wurst, instructing me to shoot here as often as possible fore it may soon be gone.
Anyone in the mid-Atlantic who even bothered to step foot outside today will find no shocking revelation in my declaration of today’s cold. Sure it was below freezing all day, but holy cow did the biting cold and piercing winds level up out on the marsh of Cedar Run Dock Road. The wind ripping across a rapidly freezing marsh plane was eye watering and hand destroying. Not even some impromptu jumping jacks were making a difference. It was no fun touching the cold metal of my tripod, clumsily thumbing the extension latches to unfurl the legs. But these are of course the chilled hazards of the job.
In hindsight extending the tripod legs wasn’t even necessary. This evening turned into one of those shoots where I wound up going with my very first set of brackets. This exposure was made with the camera and tripod low to the ground; tucked into the frozen marsh grass to draw the viewer into the scene. A big part of why I’m posting this shot is because it’s the only set of brackets that still had enough sunlight to catch the pink glow painting the frozen edge of the marsh grass. Thus bringing visual warmth to a scene that was otherwise and quite literally devoid of it. Those sunbeams didn’t hurt, either.
Celebrating Two Years
Fun bit of housekeeping: this here website is celebrating its second birthday today. Since I first uploaded Beyond the Gray Sky two years ago I’ve added 240 photographs good for 232 posts. I’m beyond pleased with my small little home on the internet, and I hope you’ve enjoyed my modest contribution to what I hope is solid internet content. Here’s looking forward to a promising third year. Thank you.
Let’s talk about the weather, Mid-Atlantic. In case you hadn’t heard there’s a potential snow storm looming, turning its tentative gaze toward the weekend. But first, proceed with caution. It’s been a tough winter for snow lovers, and we would do well to consider the unreliable performance of operational models of late. Despite a conducive pattern for coastal storm development we’ve seen one promising event after another appear, disappear, only to reemerge late in the game sending cutter after cutter into the Great Lakes. Whereas today we saw a storm widely thought to be out to sea, hang close enough to the coast to bring a mostly unexpected 1–3″ of snow to southeastern New Jersey—with an even bigger hit along the Delmarva. Were it not for marginal temperatures just above freezing this would have been a major bust. Suffice to say, faith in the models has been tested, and we should all feel justified in our skepticism. Of course there’s a lesson in here: despite improving datasets, more powerful processing, and better defined atmospheric dynamics there’s still plenty to get wrong in forecasting. We’re still a ways from perfect and that’s perfectly okay.
Tempered emotions aside, it’s tough not to get a least a wee bit excited for this weekend. Some factors driving our optimism? Consistent plotting of the storm on the major weather models for at least the past 48–72 hours; we’re now progressing well into mid-range forecasting (less than 120 hours out); and most importantly, the pattern at 500mb looks favorable. Tonight’s 00z runs will be huge, and weenies (a term for weather enthusiasts like me who know just enough about weather to be dangerous) will be staying up late on this Martin Luther King, Jr. weekend waiting for the Euro. While it’ll be fun to get caught up in the excitement, we should at least wait until Tuesday when this storm is properly sampled. Said sampling allows real data to be input into the model algorithms, ensuring much greater accuracy as the models will be relying on fewer unknowns/hypotheticals. By then if the trends still look good it’ll be game on and milk and bread memes will be in full effect. In the meantime, stay tuned to Weather NJ for the latest.
These Are Your First Steps — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
Made my way into Barnegat this evening. Deep into Jonathan Carr territory to meet up and shoot a sunset. Arriving late and short on time, I was sweating it from intersection to intersection impatiently watching pastel pink clouds glow to the north and east knowing this color only had minutes of life. On arrival I found Jon set up pointed west, buried in a patch of phragmites. With nods of acknowledgment I quickly parted ways to check the bayside and noticed a perfect foreground element exposed in the dead calm low tide of Barnegat Bay—a jetty of sorts just waiting to be framed. Combine this with a pink-purple cast to the sky as blue hour hour is setting in and you start feeling pretty damn good about yourself.
From here I set to work on dialing in the composition. The calmness and cool color tones were evoking a mood of serenity and space. I wanted to key on this and maintain as much negative space as possible; leaving the viewer room to breathe to take in the sights, imagine the sounds, and feel the openness of the setting. This photograph wasn’t going to be about vibrant colors, dramatic cloud shapes, or intricate details fulling up a composition. Instead it was going to be about space, softness, and simplicity. I’m pleased with the outcome.
It’s only January, but I wouldn’t be surprised if this winds up on my list of 2016’s best. This was one of those shoots where you just know while you’re out there that you’re capturing something good and making it your own. You know there’s that little something extra that makes it stand above most of your other shoots. It’s all part of the reward and fun of this great hobby. Timing wise this worked out, this was a brand new spot for me and it sure did deliver. As for the title? Yeah it’s a Star Warsreference.
For Colton — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
This evening my cousin and his wonderful wife welcomed their first child to the world. A happy, healthy boy named Colton. He’s only been around for a few hours now and he’s already proudly sporting a foreboding Molyneux head. Suffice it to say today was a good day. Knowing the labor battle began early this morning odds were good the latest addition to our family would make its arrival today. I use its only because until the time of birth we were all in the dark on the sex—though my gut was telling me it was a boy the whole time. The gift of hindsight now makes my prognostication air tight.
With good karma filling the air and frontal boundaries driving the air, I had a strong sense the universe was on my side for producing an all out drama light show. The universe for its part delivered. We had rain showers develop overhead. We had complex cumulus cloud structures turning and tearing as the first front moved through. We even had rainbows. The sky was a fast paced play, with Cedar Run Dock Road its stage, and Jon Carr and I its captive audience. I kept remarking to Jon over and over that tonight was about as good a period of 60 minutes of light play that I could remember. With no exaggeration there were great exposures to be made in any and all directions. Conditions were that good. As far as I’m concerned this was all Colton—Molyneuxs know how to make an entrance—and Colton arrived about an hour or so after I exposed this photograph. This was how you finish what started off as a dark, rainy January day.
Welcome, cousin. I cannot wait to meet you and watch you grow. Love you, buddy. To Tiffany and Daniel: congratulations, you guys. You’re going to be tremendous parents. Today was a good day.
It was my first time back at it in 2016. Yesterday I ventured out to Dock Road and returned to The Eye to photograph a sunset. Conditions were hardly perfect, but I sure had the itch to get out and shoot. It had been a while. Driving out on the marsh I was immediately surprised by the ice. While it’s been cold these past few days it never crossed my mind that it was cold enough to freeze the brackish water of the marsh over the course of a 48 hour arctic outbreak. But here we are. A nice bonus as it brings the proper seasonal feel to the marsh. It’s a joy of mine to document its temporal changes and the pictures left behind serve as a nice little timestamp at a place defined by flux.
Follow Along
Quick reminder! If you’re on Instagram of Facebook you can easily follow along with my pictures there. Instagram followers get an added bonus as I share my mobile photography there as well—nothing taken with my cellphone has yet to appear on this site.
Shop News
Since recently launching my online shop I’ve decided to make most, if not all, of my photographs available for purchase from this point forward. Considering we all enjoy different things and should thereby celebrate our personal subjectivity I hope to have something for everyone. This should also ease the burden of potential customers having to reactively reach out to ask to have their favorite shot added. So let’s give this a try!
But wait, there’s more! — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
While I already posted my 2015 retrospective last Thursday, I have to say this photograph would have garnered at minimum a passing consideration for the best of list. The depth and definition in the clouds of yesterday’s sunset sky was something else; undulating clouds positioned at multiple levels set the stage for dramatic interplay of light and shadows. The whole scene started out pretty mundane but once the sun dropped below the horizon a slow but steady pastel pulse colored in the clouds over the next 10 minutes. Soon the whole of the sky was ablaze. Wisps of stretched cotton candy stretched and pulled in the atmosphere winds setting the backdrop for the low-level cloud deck you see encroaching from the right, just above the horizon in an intimidating Star Destroyer lurch.
Taking a step back my hope is that this sky opens the gate for the glory of winter sunsets. This color was associated with a frontal boundary that finally brought seasonal temperatures to the mid-Atlantic. We’ve been impossibly warm this December and while some unplanned warmth is sure to prolong flip-flop season, it’d be nice to get some arctic air drama lighting up the sky as it did yesterday afternoon on Dock Road. Polar Vortex I implore you.
Never quite the same — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
Never quite the same | Taken: February 23, 2015 | Location: Antoinetta’s Restaurant, Cedar Run Dock Road, Stafford, NJ
If you’re thinking didn’t this shot show up last year? you’d be at least half right. Antoinetta’s made an appearance in my best of 2014 list with a great sunset last year. So while I thought for half a second about striking this one from the list, I couldn’t do it—I like the shot too much. I’m a winter lover first and foremost, photography of an ice-locked bay is always going to rise to the top. Such is the way of bias.
Fall in love with the forest over and over again — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
When I wrapped up on March 6, 2015 there was no doubt that was my Best Day Shooting™ yet. Between the fresh snow, the picturesque pines, the frozen lake, and primetime golden hour light, conditions were perfect for making an I’m really going to like this, aren’t I? kind of a photograph. This confluence brought memories of my time growing up playing in the woods of East Brunswick. Memories that while occasionally overlooked, will hopefully last a lifetime. Having a photograph I made at the ready to trigger such thoughts is an added plus.
Bayside Living — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
Bayside Living | Taken: May 17, 2015 | Location: Holgate, Long Beach Island, NJ
This was the result of a smidge of exploration. A task as simple as checking out some previously unexplored bayside street ends until something looks good. Enter this house. Defiant in its solidarity I was drawn to its lines, and in this shot the lines are everything. Drawing the eye down the side of the house, out along the dock, and finally out to the vanishing point—the sun itself. Couple that with some dramatic cloud action and you’ve got something. The way the blue and purple at the top-right does battle with the orange and yellow to the middle-left lends an added level of balance and interest to the shot. This one’s definitely in my top 5 for the year.
The Great Gig in the Sky — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/5
The Great Gig in the Sky | Taken: May 28, 2015 | Location: Spray Beach (possibly), Long Beach Island, NJ
If I remember correctly this photograph was borne out of chicken wings. En route to The Chicken or the Egg with friends some crazy sunset drama started happening over the ocean to the east. One of those reverse side sunsets that only pop a handful of times per year. Somewhere in Spray Beach—we think—we took a quick left and made for the beach. As soon as we crossed the berm the magic and pink hue dominated the landscape. I’m hard pressed to ever remember that kind of glow out over the ocean. Just this warm pink-orange glow. It was more aura than natural sunlight. It was nothing short of amazing. My heart was pounding.
Eager to capture the essence of the scene while trying to remain calm and observant was a task in and of itself. The clock was ticking—this kind of color was only going to hold out for a few minutes, so acting quickly but smartly was key. Within seconds noticing the good fortune of low tide I spied a section of exposed jetty rock and I’m pretty sure I fist pumped and dropped and audible hell yeah! With my camera fixed atop my tripod I bolted as fast as I could down the beach. This didn’t last very long. You see a calf injury from an early jogging incident decided to flare up and lock up. From here it was a teeth grinding limp-sprint to get in place and make the shot. Thankfully I pulled it together and made one of my all time favorites—and I’m not just talking 2015.
In Morning — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
In Morning | Taken: June 14, 2015 | Location: Cedar Run Dock Road, Stafford, NJ
What? An actual sunrise? How could I not put this in here? Being bad at mornings it’s a rare occurrence for me to get up and at ’em with the sun. No doubt a shame as I’m missing opportunities to capture the beach in all its morning glory, but I digress. Being a week out from the solstice the sun’s up super early in mid-June and this photograph was made around 5:30 a.m. I was able to cheat waking up early because I was still up from the night before. Convenient. Unable to sleep I knew I wanted to head for Dock Road’s north side marsh exposure. I’m a big fan of this meandering bend and wanted to make the most of an opportunity to get the sun out over it. Fortunately that worked out quite nicely under a brooding deck of clouds.
Live alone in a paradise — 100mm | f/3.5 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/1600
Live alone in a paradise | Taken: July 16, 2015 | Location: Ocean Acres, Manahawkin, NJ (my backyard)
Ah for my love of macro. I will always have a soft spot for floral macros. It’s where I cut my teeth in photography, and I love admiring all sorts of plants and flowers up close and personal through the viewfinder. Purple coneflowers—featured here—are a favorite subject of mine, and this holds true through all phases of their development from pre-bud to death. I’m using a portrait orientation here to create room and balance with the vertical lines of my deck spindles to the rear; backed with a nice soft bokeh to bring out the flower itself. I am drawn to the softness and space of the composition coupled with the flower petals working in and out of focus thanks to a very shallow depth of field.
Daedalus Bid You Take Heed — 100mm | f/3.5 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/125
Sticking with the flower theme I’m rolling with one that’s made with my favorite medium: black and white. Here I’m focusing on elements of simplicity, strong contrast, negative space, symmetry, and abstraction. I’ve taken a lone purple coneflower bud that never quite blossomed and shot it dead on overtop. Staring down the viewfinder the flower triggered images of our sun. But not exactly our sun in its traditional sense, instead more like something you might see hanging in an elementary school student’s Heliosphere diorama. Maybe it’s just be but I cherish these kind of associations.
Unplanned Deviation | Taken: August 13, 2015 | Location: Great Bay Boulevard, Little Egg Harbor, NJ
File this one under happy accidents. I was all geared up to head to Stafford Forge but had to deviate at the last moment because cars. That’s right, the Forge was loaded down with people, all 15 of them, and I simply was not prepared for that. Before I was even off the Garden State Parkway I had singled out Great Bay Boulevard as my plan B. This was a good thing. Conditions were beautiful, visibility was strong under clear air, and the marsh was still in its vibrant green glory. While locking in my position I had the pleasure to be within earshot of two older gentlemen regaling themselves with stories of good times. You could say it was just one of those great summer nights people wax poetic about on the Jersey Shore. Heh.
Back Home in the Comfort Zone — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
Here’s one of those this has grown on me photographs. Made during a one day layover back in my hometown sandwiched between two vacations, I shot at my go-to spot on Dock Road—this was as much a decision of recalibration as it was a chance to spend some time behind the camera again. I’m a creature of habit so these kind of moments mean the world to me when I’m pulled away from my creature comforts for too long. What I like most about this shot is the marsh itself. Being way down low and close in on the grasses, I’m captivated with how the marsh comes into and out of focus as your eye moves out toward the horizon. This is the result of a strong breeze that was pushing the grass combined with just enough lazy shutter to get the motion down. This was an effect I did not fully notice until post processing when I saw the image blown up to a better size.
A Toast to Autumn — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
A Toast to Autumn | Taken: October 16, 2015 | Location: Cedar Run Dock Road, Stafford, NJ
I’m always a little bummed when the marsh finally dies out for the season. The Great Browning we call it derisively. I partly exacerbate this because let’s face it, Fall just ain’t my season. But with all that said, this photograph really captures the beautiful amber essence that is autumn. We’ve had an almost impossibly warm and beautiful Fall here in New Jersey, and I tapped into that mojo here. So here’s until next year, marsh. To when your glorious green grasses return.
We Face the Path of Time — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
We Face the Path of Time | Taken: December 8, 2015 | Location: Great Bay Boulevard, Little Egg Harbor, NJ
While a derider could decry recency bias, these final two shots happened on my new Best Day Shooting™ yet. Just over two weeks ago some seriously stellar conditions descended upon the region. I had the good fortune to be in just the right spot at just the right time—of course lately SunsetWx has played a big part at infusing some sunset science into said fortune. Whatever it was, it all came together on Great Bay Boulevard, and I was able to compose a frame I am proud of. People are back in forth on this shot and the one below it, but for me this one is not only my best photograph of 2015, it’s my best photograph yet. How long will it stand?
Ruinous Splendor | Taken: December 8, 2015 | Location: Great Bay Boulevard, Little Egg Harbor, NJ
At the height of the shoot I was concerned We Face the Path of Time wasn’t cutting it, and by cutting it, I mean making the most of the conditions (light, glassy water, posts, and clouds). This photograph was the product of that paranoia. Right around peak light I abandoned my spot out on the dock and retreated for the main bulkhead where I quickly composed what some have taken to calling the I — II — II — X shot. Quite possibly one of the most intense scenes I’ve photographed, there’s plenty to like about this picture—Flickr user and photographer E.P. Scott makes the best case. Strip away everything else I’m most pleased with the prominence of the pillars popularly enumerated with roman numerals, backlit by a sky that can best be described as hellfire.
Here’s to 2015. Thank you everyone for being part of my journey—your support and participation is fully appreciated. In the meantime take a look back to 2014 and let’s see what’s in store for 2016. Cheers.
With Tumbled Locks and Broken Codes — 40mm | f/5.6 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/250
Let’s shimmy back to summertime, shall we? It’s late December here in the mid-Atlantic and we’re staring a week’s worth of temps in the 60s and 70s. Exactly how Bing Crosby drew it up. With this kind of unseasonable warmth funneling through the region it’s hard not to think back to warmer climes. Of course this is a convenient excuse to post a photograph I’ve been sitting on since the 9th of August. Cripes. Not wanting to carry over any lingering photographs into 2016 you’re getting it now.
Hopping back to August I remember this day well enough. It started out early—pre-dawn in fact—as Ben Wurst and I made way in the infamous “Otter Boat.” Complete with gunnels so low a two inch rogue wave could sink this ship. Sure I’m exaggerating but it’s a pretty small vessel. Perfect for quick hit exploration of our intracoastal salt marsh. Our original intent, other than infringing on my innate desire to sleep forever, was one of sunrise. The plan was to make for a bit of sandbar in the middle of Great Bay. A place only exposed during periods of low tide. While tides were good, the clouds were not. It was such a serene morning it was hard to think of our efforts as a bust in spite of the cloudless sky. Here we were two dudes cruising around a glassy Great Bay in a low rider. Not too shabby.
Before heading in we made for the great ruin of our area—the Crab Island Fish Factory. For decades this once profitable fish processing plant has remained a derelict. Nevertheless dominating the Great Bay Boulevard skyline (such as it is). It’s dereliction accelerated during the post-Sandy years, but it does have a pretty neat Ebbets Field connection. I’ve wanted to get out there to explore long before my photographer days, but I never had the means. Of course flip-flops aren’t exactly recommended footwear for exploration of an abandoned island. Particularly one covered in poisonous plants and littered in glass, rusted metal, unknown wildlife, and who else knows what. We did not explore far, but I did manage to make this photograph of what must have been thousands of broken seashells strewn about an asphalt pier. Most likely the result of sea birds dropping clamshells to expose their fleshy, protein rich prey.
I definitely hope to exploit more photo opportunities at the fish factory in the future. For now you can take a pretty sweet arial tour thanks to some drone footage made a few short weeks after our impromptu visit. The title is a lyrical inspired shout-out to Lera Lynn’s most excellent song, “The Only Thing Worth Fighting For.” At the time of this photograph I was knee deep in True Detective season 2, so that’s the connection.
