Greg Molyneux Photography

Tag: landscape

  • This Will Do

    HDR photograph of a smoldering sunset over Stafford Forge
    This Will Do — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    I’m not in love with this shot. Mother Nature did all the heavy lifting today, rendering a slow burning sunset over Stafford Forge. I just kind of showed up and went along for the ride. My “problems” began on arrival. My plan was to revisit the spot Joe and Jackie brought me where I dabbled with a little astrophotography a couple weeks back. Unfortunately when I arrived at the trail there were cars—and where there are cars there are people—and where there are people there is a place Greg will not go.

    Short on time with the sun setting fast, I returned to the front lake. Completely uninspired with my first setup and unsure as to how best to frame my shot, I searched my immediate surroundings looking for anything and everything that could give me a serviceable foreground. About 20 feet away to my left I found the branch you see above and rolled with it. To further my criticism in this airing of grievances the photograph is too right heavy; which is to say there’s just not enough balance from right to left—all the action (re: weight) is happening on that side. Compounding this is the section of longer grass filling the right corner, just behind the branch. Not my best work, but it’ll have to do. On this night Mother Nature gets a B+ and Greg Molyneux is slapped with a C (probably gonna get grounded).

    Website update: I’ve been asked to participate little show coming up at the Little Egg Harbor Library on Thursday, November 12, and was tasked with putting together an artist statement and bio. Considering I went through the trouble I figured why not create a real deal about page and include it? Well, here you go.

  • Look Down On It

    HDR landscape photograph taken at sunset over tide pools and marsh
    Look Down On It — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    I never thought pictures would happen yesterday. With Zombie Outbreak Build Day as the clear priority I put little thought into being able to do both. But thanks to fortuitous timing, some promising clouds, and the good sense (all luck) to actually pack my camera gear, I was able to travel direct from the Joseph A. Citta Scout Reservation—home to this weekend’s haunt—to my regular Dock Road stomping grounds. I had little time or desire to go elsewhere. In spite of feeling my age thanks to a good day of hard work, a rare moment of ambition settled upon me, prying me away from the Sirens’ call of a hot shower and comfortable couch. Not sure what was happening, pictures it was!

    Arriving with the sun nearly down my shot choices were limited. And so necessity mandate I line up where I had done many times before. Only this time I threw in a few compositional wrinkles: first, though less rare than what comes next, I extended the tripod to full height—typically being a low to the ground shooter; second I framed up a shot with the lower 2/3 occupying the lion-share of the frame, leaving the upper 1/3 for the sky alone. For those more familiar with my landscape work you’ll usually see no less than 1/2 the image being sky. None of this is to say I don’t appreciate the ratio of last night’s shot, it’s just that I’m not very good at it. I feel the same about vertically oriented photographs. Whereas my buddy and fellow south Jersey landscape photographer, Ben Wurst, excels in these areas.

    That’s all just a bunch of words to say that while peaking outside ye olde comfort zone yesterday, I managed to produce a solid result. The elevated 2/3 angle brings a perspective to the marsh I’ve struggled to extract. This vantage allows the viewer to better understand the depth and interconnectedness that endear New Jersey’s marshes to many—humans and birds alike.

    And finally a note about this website: this marks post number 200 since launch in January 2014. Woohoo! Obligatory round number dance.

  • The Pink Purple Blues

    Wide angle photograph of ocean jetty rock captured at blue hour
    The Pink Purple Blues — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/4

    For the first time in weeks, if not months, I made it to the beach today. Conditions were so good I made it to the beach twice today. Continuing with the trend of spectacular light and air quality experienced yesterday, the Atlantic Ocean threw in a cool environmental wrinkle of its own: dead calm seas. I’m talking bathtub waves of no more than six inches calm. Not since my public works days when I was working on the beach daily have I seen the water tame; and even then it only happened less than one hand is needed to count.

    Happy just to be out there I was content simply to hang out and enjoy the vibe in its totality. But with the sun comfortably set and a standout blue hour taking hold, I made my way for a bit of jetty rock that I had scoped out earlier in the day—during the aforementioned first trip to the beach—Harvey Cedars if you’re scoring at home. With an impressive pastel gradient stretched across the sky I waited for it to get dark enough such that my shutter could get sluggish enough. Lazy shutters for the win. Once you’re inside one tenth of a second, motion from ocean wave action usually takes hold. Of course things had to be a bit more sluggish than normal due to the unusually calm water. Tonight I needed to get down to a quarter of a second. And opposite to last night’s photograph where I went with my first shot, this evening it was the last.

  • A Toast to Autumn

    Wide angle HDR photograph of a vibrant golden hour over marsh
    A Toast to Autumn — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    This evening’s session along the marshes of Dock Road was a real treat. Cool yet comfortable temperatures made for ideal viewing of what was a perfect combination of rich golden light and piercingly clear autumn air. My vision seemed ten times better than usual the air was so pure. Everything was glowing. With the rich light pouring in and the sun setting fast, I popped the tripod into position and began making brackets. Fast forward another 40 minutes of shooting and a trip home to the computer only to realize that my first batch of bracketed exposures would wind up being the one. It’s always something when that winds up being the case.

    Compositionally I wanted to play off the main tidal pool and the cloud reflection therein. Tucking the near end of the pool off the edge to the bottom left allows the eye to enter the photo to then move up the clouds and over to the setting sun, finishing with the popcorn clouds in the sky. It’s good to have movement.

    Shooting tonight was tons of fun; would do it again. A strong reminder of why it’s worth getting out there and doing this. If nothing else it brings you closer to nature.

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  • The Scene Takes Shape

    Wide angle astrophotography from Stafford Forge Wildlife Management Area
    The Scene Takes Shape — 14mm | f/2.8 | ISO 320 | EXP 30 sec

    It’d be fair to say I stepped out of both my comfort and interest zones last night. Astrophotography is a far cry from my forte, and while I do love the stars and the night sky, it’s a technique I’d rather observe through the lens work of folks far more skilled in its execution than me. And while photography is about picking and choosing your battles, like anything else there’s little harm in hopping out of that creative box to experience some new applications of the craft. Learning should never stop, right?

    With clear, crisp skies overhead and a New Moon fast approaching, last night was sure to be as good a time as ever to head out for a little night work. At a loss for what to do, Joe and Jackie piped up that astrophotography should make up at least some of the night’s fun—Mario Maker aside the fireplace would come later. Taking their idea and moving it forward I offered up the Forge as our target destination. It’s close to home and gets pretty dark—by New Jersey light pollution standards anyway. And yet, while the Forge may had been my suggestion kudos to Joe and Jackie for bringing me out to a peninsula that had been never before tread by the likes of Greg Molyneux.

    It was only 9:00 p.m. by the time we hiked out there. I use hiked loosely as it was more like a 5 minute walk through the woods. But let me tell you it sure was dark. With no moonlight overhead it was only a matter of feet before all was consumed by the inky blackness. It was a creepy way to start the fall season. Creepy in the best way, of course. Out on the peninsula and flanked by water on all sides, framing up a serviceable composition became something of an exercise in trial and error. With my limited experience my “approach” consisted of some high ISO shooting into the black. Sure it blows out the shot but it’s a quick and dirty way to see what’s in your frame. Once all that important busy work was out of the way, and I had the shot I wanted such as it is, I simply dialed back the ISO all the way down to 320. From there I made my final shots.

    Walking back out to the car proved more creepy than the journey in. It got worse when we happened upon the cryptic writing scrawled on the trunk of a recently felled tree. Words that seemed to suggest leaving the area with much haste was the recommended course of action. Or else! From there paces quickened and flashlights brightened. As the caboose in this procession of three I made the poor choice to turn and look behind me. Total black out. Again it was the good kind of scared.

    Night photography aside I can’t wait to revisit this location for sunset!

  • The Demons of Our Dreams

    Wide angle long exposure photograph of a demonic shelf cloud over Barnegat Bay
    The Demons of Our Dreams — 14mm | f/2.8 | ISO 100 | EXP 30 sec

    When I’m titling my photographs I most always go with the first word, phrase, song lyric, or bit of text that comes to mind. It’s a quick and easy approach that keeps me from overthinking my named works. I broke that rule today. I wanted to go with Death Comes for us All, but an apprehensive voice inside me chided that might come across too strong. Death’s a touchy subject, and I’m not here consciously looking to set off any triggers. Ergo I downgraded to demons.

    What led to the death/demon connection in the first place? Well as I look at the 30 second long exposure rendering of this photograph, with its low hanging shelf cloud accentuated by motion blur marching across Barnegat Bay; a Titan’s visage, gaunt and brooding, manifests pressing downward through the clouds ready to escape its confines to breach the bay and do its worst. It is both spooky and spectacular—natures reminder of the omnipotence of the universe and our fleeting moments hurtling about our own speck of space.

    This photo session started out as an attempt to capture a less abstract look at storm clouds, and even more specifically some lightning. Instead something wholly unexpected manifested on the sensor. That’s the way photography goes sometimes, and it’s important for us to always keep an open mind to the unintended outcomes it may render.

  • Flood Plain

    Wide angle HDR photograph of sunset over remnants of Joaquin tidal flooding on the Dock Road salt marsh
    Flood Plain — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    Having returned from vacation just yesterday I was left on the outside looking in as days of rain, wind, and tidal surge battered New Jersey beaches and intracoastal ways. Even though our area was spared the brunt of Joaquin thanks to just missing a capture from an upper level low spinning over the southeastern United States, my home town and neighboring beaches and waterways had front row seating to extended onshore flow that wrought moderate tidal flooding and a deluge of rain.

    Sitting in Florida, a mere few hundred miles from the center of Joaquin’s cyclogenesis, I was crossing my fingers model run to model run as spaghetti plots meandered all over the eastern seaboard; many sending landfall to areas directly affected by Superstorm Sandy. Ultimately, after laying a beating on the Bahamas this turned into a fish storm and began its northeast march toward Bermuda and out to sea. But with a powerful blocking high pressure locked in around Maine and the low pressure of the storm off the coast of Florida, Mother Nature set up the physical mechanics of a pitching machine enabling a 72-96 hour period of onshore flow to fire streams of moisture and wind at much of the east coast; bringing devastating rain to South Carolina and beach erosion to many coastal areas. With the abrupt left hook of Sandy still fresh in all our minds, this was a little too close for comfort.

    Pictured above is my photograph of tonight’s sunset still showing off the tidal remains of all that water that was pushed up toward the coast thanks to that pitching machine effect. Despite being days after peak flooding you can get a sense of just how long it takes water to recede safely back whence it came.

  • Back Home in the Comfort Zone

    Back Home in the Comfort Zone

    Golden hour wide angle HDR landscape photograph of clouds and marsh
    Back Home in the Comfort Zone — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    First off I hope at least one intrepid New Jersey photographer was out making time lapse and/or long exposure photographs considering the most excellent cloudage we had on deck today. All day. Short on intervalometers and neutral density filters I did neither. But I did get out there to at least make this one photo—my first in a while.

    Having just returned from a 9-day left coast swing today marks my lone day in Manahawkin before I pivot to a weeklong jaunt at Walt Disney World. I spent the past week plus in California sans camera (not counting the cellphone, of course) so I wanted to get in one session of shooting in my old stomping grounds before I takeoff once again. Feeling good among the creature comforts of home it seemed only fitting that I make for Dock Road to fire off my first frames in weeks. For a creature of habit like myself I can’t express enough how much familiarity is important to me. There’s only so much external stimuli I can take before I must retreat to the physical and mental comfort zones that ease and normalize my body and mind.

    I look forward to more photo sessions upon my return. Be well.

  • 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.