Greg Molyneux Photography

Tag: long beach island

Imprinted
Imprinted — 14mm | f/2.8 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/100
After making Friday’s sunset photograph I turned my attention to the waterfront and decided to do things a little different. While I kept with my 14mm lens, I did switch from manual focus to autofocus and stopped up from f/8 to f/2.8—the latter being wide open on my wide angle lens. From here I opted to mess with some selective focus on a footprint marked upon the sand. I thought it might make an interesting foreground prop were I to get close enough. From a distance of roughly three inches I engaged back button focus on my camera and let technology take over the focus ring. Once it found its mark giving a reassuring beep of approval, I depressed my shutter and exhaled. Instead of rendering a tack sharp image from edge to edge of the frame, as is my usual execution when shooting wide angle landscapes, here the background is able to fade away keeping the attention on the dollop of tread upon sand. It’s easy to get stuck in our routines, executing the same process over and over, so it’s liberating to cut loose and throw a changeup every now and then. It is spring training time, after all. Baseball is back, baby!
This shoot wasn’t all sunshine and roses, however. When doing my thing in Lightroom I waffled on whether or not to go with a 3:2 ratio—what you see here—versus a 2:1 crop. I liked them both for somewhat different reasons, ultimately settling upon the former because the sunset sky is a bit more balanced with the foreground. Granted the 2:1 brought more focus on the footprint and the individual grains of sand, but there was something about leaving the upper third of the frame as sky that made me a bit unsure. Best stay with the 3:2 in the sake of balance here. Or not. As I’ve written many times, while it’s good to have our rules it is also good to break them.
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February 27, 2017
False Spring
False Spring — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
It’s been warm, folks. Strangely warm for February. Temperatures have ranged in the low- to mid-70s the past two days and it has many wondering if spring is already be upon us. Its tempting to give into the notion with nascent buds and bulbs beginning to show themselves early around much of the Mid-Atlantic. And while it’s easy to party like short sleeve weather is here to stay I cannot help but think back on the past few backloaded winters that have crushed any and all dreams of an early spring. With March looming I worry if we’ll pay the price for what has been otherwise a spectacular February. Will a prolonged cold snap of freezing temperatures lay waste to the early plant and flower growth leaving us with a less than stellar bloom? Time will tell—but hope springs eternal. Pardon my pun.
On Long Beach Island this evening to make photos things were less warm. While temperatures still hung in the mid-50s cold bay and ocean water cast a reminder that we’ve still got a way to go. The micro climate is always something of a marvel. My house, which sits about five miles west of this photo as the crow flies, sat a good 15 degrees warmer than our barrier island. That’s just the way it goes; late to cool down in fall thanks to warm water, and late to heat up in spring thanks to cold water. That’s the ocean, folks—it’s big and it matters.
My choice of title is surely a tie in to the early warmth and its transient tease (probably), but it’s more surely a hat tip to Mr. Cool Hat, George R. R. Martin himself. The sage of Westeros and author of A Song of Ice and Fire. The year of the false spring occurred at the time of the tourney at Harrenhal—a tournament which proved a watershed moment in triggering Robert’s Rebellion and the ensuing events that have become well known to book readers and television watchers alike. Winters are long and cold in Westeros, you guys, and climate change be damned at least we’re not dealing with the Long Night in our realm as yet. For the night is dark and full of terrors.
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February 24, 2017
Who Goes There?
Who Goes There? — 35mm | f/5.6 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/800
Footprints? Footprints on the sand dune? That’s prohibited, yo. Photographic evidence would suggest recently someone was out and about on a section of berm otherwise left perfectly windswept along the beaches of Loveladies, New Jersey. Judging by the small size and short gait I’m going to guess this was a child’s work. Fortunately it was one little path of a mere 20 steps or so running close and parallel to the beach entryway. As best I could tell no harm was levied against any wildlife in this endeavor. So as not to seem I’m casting righteous judgement from an ivory tower, I’ll admit the temptation to cross the barrier and traipse into this untouched land is strong. I myself had a moment of weakness yesterday as I thought, if only I could get closer to that little dollop of dune grass you see to the left of this photo in the middle ground. Adherence to rules shoulder angel was able to defeat go ahead no is looking pitchfork guy. Crises averted.
Putting that lesson in moral conflict behind us, these footprints I’ve been going on about lend a suitable foreground element to the composition. Reminiscent of a snow photo from two years back, the small section of prints brings more to the story. Who was here? What were they doing? This brings a human interest to the piece—a small reminder we the people populate this natural world and leave downstream effects in our wake. Some positive, some negative—and so goes our story of progress. Fits and starts. Two steps forward and one step back. This is not an admonishment as we are only human and perfection is better left to a more ethereal realm.
Before we close this out, if you’re ever looking to get up on the dunes in a compliant fashion, keep your eyes and ears open for a volunteer day when our berms are being cleared of refuse, or reinforced with dune grass or old Christmas trees and sand fence. Local organizations could always use more helping hands.
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February 5, 2017
Overrun
Overrun — 35mm | f/1.4 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/4000
Heh—”Lovely Rita” just cued up as I began writing up this post. Things are looking up on what has otherwise been a rather pedestrian Saturday in the cellar cold that is February. So pedestrian, in fact, my right shoe found itself planted in some fresh dog poo as I was making sunset photos, but I digress.
Before any of those shenanigans took place—as “Being For The Benefit of Mr. Kite!” randomly fires up, #winning—I was leaving an art show on Long Beach Island just as golden hour was casting light upon the 18 mile sandbar. I figured what the heck, may as well check the beach for a photo op. I. Am. Glad. I. Did. Had lethargy won the day I would have hopped in my car and driven home, belting out off key harmonies alone in my salt crusted sedan. Instead I took a short walk across a wide road.
Once on the oceanside my nose was greeted with fresh salt air and my face a gentle breeze. More often than not ocean winds are ripping, especially in winter, and this can foul up your day real quick if you’re not dressed accordingly. Of course I wasn’t dressed accordingly. I wasn’t a boy scout so to hell with preparedness, am I right? Oh, “Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds” now? This Beatles block is something. Fortunately the breeze was little more than a whisper adding little in the way of extra bite to a high temperature that sat in the low 30s all day—Fahrenheit, yo.
With the tide up and the steep cliff face still looming from where the last nor’easter went all Pac-Man on the berm, I was limited to shooting along the East Coast Ave beach entrance only. Led Zeppelin’s “Dancing Days” (live) is playing now for those keeping score at home. Clearly iTunes has a British rock thing going tonight. Fortunately I needed not go any further than the entryway. I had an attention grabbing bit of sand fence exposed at the crest of the sand dune calling my name. “Steve!” It said. But I paid that no mind this dune was mine. The small section of fence has been doing its thing, maybe a bit too well, holding up sand and continuing to build and protect life and property. “Straight Outta Compton (Remastered 2002)” now up. Straight Outta Sand Dune? Alternate title, perhaps?
Anyway, this minimalist feature was calling my name yet the magic didn’t really happen until I got home. During my obligatory first pass photo inspection in Lightroom I knew immediately I wanted to go with a super contrasty black and white treatment. Into Silver Efex Pro 2 I went and the rest is low key history. With that it looks like I am closing out this post with “Here I Dreamt I was an Architect” by The Decemberists. If “Africa” by Toto comes up next I’m declaring this run of tunes damn near perfect. Thanks for listening.
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February 4, 2017
Set Aside Bayside
Set Aside Bayside — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
Last light and the tide was with me. Which is to say gentle bay waters were low and slow affording me a dry spot otherwise lost to the migrating sea. More often than not I find myself unable to set up shop on this the starboard side of the jetty without getting myself or some gear wet. Nevertheless I like it here—a spot where I made a favorite black and white years back—so it was great to find it available this evening.
Ten minutes to sundown and I was admiring the altocumulus clouds filling the sky. Tight reticulated patterns draped across the deck moving in slowly from the west. Like a cosmic fabric wearing checkerboard markings I was lost in its mesmerizing array. The only question on my mind was would there be enough space in the clouds to allow the sunset color to pass through? It only took a few minutes to find solace as the cloud deck began to heat up in a smoldering red glow. Contented I made my shutters and took in the rest of the show undistracted.
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January 13, 2017
Keep Swinging
Keep Swinging — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/5
Another exposure from last Saturday’s exemplar sunset. At the time of this shoot the Cleveland Indians and Chicago Cubs were midway through a World Series for the ages. Two legacy ball clubs met in the Fall Classic, each seeking to end championship droughts that run so deep the scorched earth of their past seems to predate the respective clubs storied existence. Cleveland last won it all in 1948, and for the Cubs you have to go all the way back to 1908—you know, before the planet was embroiled in its first world war. Despite both teams fielding plenty of championship caliber ball clubs over subsequent decades neither could ever seem to escape the bowels of their own history—the likes of which makes you take serious the voodoo of a cursed destiny. It’s a nasty business, goats be damned. For a fan of neither team, this made the 2016 matchup all the more special—one of these clubs was going to break the hex and send long entrenched narratives to the editor’s waste bin. I would be entertained without the agony/elation precipice these two passionate fanbases precariously stood upon. As a Yankees fan on firmer ground I was all in for the Cubs, though I would have been equally satisfied had Cleveland claimed the prize.
And so it went. Cleveland stormed out to a 3–1 series lead, firmly secure in their already established home field advantage. A lights out bullpen spearheaded by Terry Francona’s willingness to deploy the near unhittable Andrew Miller in the fireman role, backed a Herculean effort from Cy Young winner, Corey Kluber. Kluber, more throw back than modern day starter, was more than willing to pitch until his arm fell off this postseason. Shades of CC Sabathia down the stretch for the Brewers in 2008. My hat tips for you, sir. In the end, though, it was the Cubs’ time. Storming back to bring the Series to an elimination game seven, the two teams met for one last trial before fate and in the process produced an all time game seven experience. Despite an inspired Cleveland comeback, and Rajai Davis’ unlikely late game home run heroics, the Cubs were able to make history and set fire to a narrative that has shrouded a great franchise for far too long.
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November 5, 2016
Bayside Burn
Bayside Burn — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/8
Saturday night and the sky is all right. This weekend I got back on the photo grind and made off into the night with some kind of sunset. Mother Nature threw me a solid and brought out the big guns along the Surf City bayshore. Roughly a dozen sunset dwellers milling about Sunset Park were treated with one of those long burn smoldering skies that for the better part of a half an hour made the world stand still. Cellphones, mirrorless, and SLR cameras alike were put to good use documenting the light show; a frenzy of Instagram posts and rapid collection of likes ensued. For the few folks that rocked out sans camera, free-wheeling leg pumps on the area swing set made for idyllic, stress free viewing. For the few lovers among us the sky brought hearts to bear, setting to light the purity of their affections.
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November 1, 2016
Indecision
Indecision — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
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.
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October 9, 2016
Circular Motion
Circular Motion — 35mm | f/1.4 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/3200
Circular motion will be something of a recurring theme as we spiral toward the 2016 Labor Day Weekend along U.S. the eastern seaboard. Recently named Tropical Storm Hermine is spooling up in the Gulf of Mexico as she creeps slowly toward the Florida Panhandle. While it’s hardly locked down there’s growing consensus that after initial landfall the storm will look to spin its way up the east coast, potentially wreaking havoc on weekend plans, fresh hairstyles, and coastal communities up and down the seaboard. Prolonged rain, wind, and tidal surge will open the door to disruptive conditions for the foreseeable future. Such is the way of things, the way of the weather.
Subject to storm surge and flooding is LBI’s own Long Beach Island Foundation—also known as the place I made this photograph. Scattered about the grounds are a litany of visually appealing and thought provoking sculptures. I was particularly drawn to a vertical array of circular forms orderly arranged on a ladder type apparatus. If my memory serves me the whole piece was in the ballpark of three feet wide and nine feet high. I tucked in close with my 35mm lens set wide open at f/1.4 to create a shallow depth of field image that accentuated the form and contrast of the circular disks. This one is all about form fleshed out through light and shadow play.
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August 31, 2016