Greg Molyneux Photography

Tag: long beach island

  • Fade Out

    Fade Out

    Blue hour HDR photograph overlooking dune fence and calm bay water
    Fade Out — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    For those of you following my photos on the regular—thank you!—you know I like vibrant, contrasty colors for my landscapes. The more color the better. But in processing last night’s shot (today) I wanted to produce a kinder, gentler final image. A more subtle hand to photograph and capture the calm, soothing blues that crept out over Ship Bottom’s bay beach as the final fading moments of light packed up their things for the daily migration west.

    In spite of a promising cloud deck sunset never fully fired yesterday, and in this case I’m not even a trifle bit upset by that. After the world class light that’s been pumping in of late it was nice to take a breather to sit back and appreciate a true blue hour. This shot was made a good 25–30 minutes after full sundown, and coupled with the unseasonably mild temperatures (it’s cracked 70 the past two days across New Jersey) it was a real treat to make December photographs in short sleeves. Many rejuvenated revelers were out and about with their cameras, pets, and bicycles, while couples went walking hand-in-hand. It was just all so nice to see.

    Compositionally I’ll go as far as to say I did the best I could. Until I arrived I was forgetful of the fact that at this time of year, with the winter sun setting in the southwest, angles get a little tough on many of LBI’s westward exposures. Sunset Point in Ship Bottom is surely no different. With the Point itself completely out of the the picture, I made my way about 200 feet south along the bay beach and decided to make my final stand at this little section of dune fence. Forever fond of said dune fence from my days of yore maintaining the public spaces with Ship Bottom Public Works, it was this or just an open expense of heavily traveled beach sand. The fence seemed the better play.

  • On Second Thought

    Square format landscape photograph of phragmites and Barnegat Bay at blue hour
    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.

  • Almost Again

    Wide angle HDR photograph of sunset over Barnegat Bay taken from LBI's Surf City Sunset Park
    Almost Again — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    There’s been a theme this week: sunsets that just miss. The ingredients are there—abundant multi level cloud decks, comfortable temperatures, and enough breaks in the clouds to give hope the sun just might slip through. Saturday was a just miss and Sunday wrought more of the same. While I still managed to walk away with some keepers it’s been hard to not feel left wanting. Even last night—and while I think this is a fine photograph—it could have been more. Yes, the sun managed to poke out just long enough to color up the sky for about 3 minutes, but an ill-timed rain shower put the kibosh on that. For a minute there I thought big time color was going to wash across the sky. Color on par with this past Monday’s. Color that of course I missed.

    Last night I visited Long Beach Island’s Sunset Park in Surf City, NJ. It’s a solid spot but it’s just about getting out of season. With the sun setting further to the south it’s creating some tough angles that offer up some compositional challenges. For reference, in late June the sun will set to the right of where the main bulkhead is pointing, offerings a more over the bay kind of perspective. It may be time to retire this locale from the sunset rotation until late spring. But that doesn’t mean I won’t be back for some wintertime action if the bay decides to freeze over as it has done the past two winters. We shall see.

    And before someone calls the wambulance on my sunset whining, I’m thankful this one managed to be as good as it was. Unlike Saturday and Sunday which seemed like slam dunks, yesterday’s (Thursday) conditions showed the least promise in terms of total cloud cover. Ebbs and flows and on it goes.

  • 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.

  • 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.

  • Take Your Place Amongst the Revelers

    HDR photograph of a fiery sunset over Barnegat Bay as seen from Surf City, NJ
    Take Your Place Amongst the Revelers — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    Last night’s sunset was well attended—emphasis on well. Unsurprising in hindsight, on a gorgeous mid-Summer Saturday night, Surf City’s little Sunset Park must have drawn in some 40-plus revelers to capture the final few moments of the Earth’s daily rotation away from the Sun. It was great to see such enthusiasm from the populace.

    Of course seeing and shooting are two different things, and it didn’t take long for me to realize I had chosen my final destination poorly. You see as the human headcount in any one spot increases, the ability to carve out a good, unobstructed view with a wide angle lens rears its limitations quickly. Unable to position myself with a more northward facing angle, where the most interesting clouds—both in shape and color—were marking the sky, I was left with no choice but to look out due west. Essentially recreating this shot from May 2014. Even with my little spot carved out I still had a few visitors get close enough for a hand or foot to sneak its way into my frame. Though I can hardly blame them: before I had gotten into photography I had no appreciation for just how wide a shot really can be.

    At the end of the day I was able to come away with a serviceable enough photo. I just wish I didn’t feel at odds with myself; on the one hand bummed that I couldn’t hunt for an ideal exposure like I usually do, and on the other hand self-conscious about feeling like my presence is just getting in everybody else’s way. Folks enjoying their vacation time looking to get a good cellphone shot don’t want to have to deal with tripod laden space hogs such as myself.

    ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

  • The Great Gig in the Sky

    The Great Gig in the Sky

    World class sunset over the sandy beaches and jetty rock of Long Beach Island
    The Great Gig in the Sky — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/5

    One minute your sitting in the back of a four-door Jeep groovin’ on some tunes en route to the Chicken of the Egg to chow down on some wings, and the next minute your banging an emergency left somewhere in Spray Beach to make a mad dash to the beach for world class cloud ignition happening directly overhead. We had but minutes.

    I started by haphazardly kicking my flip-flops mid-sprint in the general direction of where street meets beach; camera in right hand, tripod in left. Awestruck and drunk on light, I reflexively and moronically tossed my tripod aside right into the sand and began checking camera settings. Heart thumping, adrenal glands were quick to inform me this color—quite possibly the best I’ve ever seen—wasn’t long for this world. After a few deep breaths and focus regained, I collected myself and my tripod and dusted out the sand as best I could understanding I was effectively out of time.

    Once the tripod joints where workable I made a few pretty great shots from my first spot—right along the berm where dune fence marks the walkway. You can see an Instagram of that here. After about 5 minutes making shots I made for the beach itself. Jon Carr was already down there, busy making his own shots with his lovely wife taking in the wonder and the hijinks. By this point the ocean was reflecting the most potent yellow-orange light I’ve been fortunate enough to see. It was in a word otherwordly.

    After scurrying down to join them, and as I was catching my breath, a quick glance northward along the beach revealed the secret; exposed jetty rock, perfectly arranged just waiting to be photographed. Unable to leave my muse in wait, I was off on a 300 yard sprint up the beach with Jon yelling encouragingly in the backround, “you can make it!” Here’s where the problems could have undermined it all: first a happy couple were appropriately noting the humor in a guy sprinting up the beach with a camera mounted tripod being wielded more like Gandalf’s staff in battle. The first dozen or so yards were great until my calf muscle strain decided to rear its ugly head; knotted up I bit the pain and kept jogging to these jetty rock. Throwing caution and my camera’s welfare to the wind, there was no way I was missing this chance.

    My excitement subsumed the pain, and with a few more deep hand stabilizing breaths, I dug my heels and the tripod in the wet sand, composed my frame, and made what is now my favorite landscape photograph to date. And where I almost always post bracketed photographs for my landscapes—consisting of usually 7 exposures—I only needed one here. The light was so beautifully balanced there was no need to go further and merge it with the six other photographs, each exposed one stop apart from the other.

    What an amazing 15 minutes.

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  • Bayside Living

    High drama at sunset befalls a lone house sitting along the bayfront of Little Egg Harbor in this HDR sunset photograph
    Bayside Living — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    Made just last night, I can assure you the light chasing on Long Beach Island’s southern tip was spectacular. A+ conditions, really. With pockets of haze and roiling cumulus clouds rolling west to east the setup was spectacular; late day light was creating all kinds of unique effects rendering ideal conditions for what’s easily the best photograph I’ve made in months—at least as far as I’m concerned.

    After bouncing around from spot to spot, we ultimately settled on this Holgate bayside locale to make photographs. This little hideaway Holgate park on the eastern shore of Little Egg Harbor, coupled with the hallmark cedar siding and the sharp lines on the edifice of this bayfront property seen above, provided a spot on composition as far as I’m concerned. The intense light bouncing off the clouds created an intense gradient of yellow to blue as you let your eyes move from left to right across the photograph. I think it might be a while before I make another shot that trumps last night’s drama.

    Last night was easily the most fun I’ve had behind the camera in months.

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  • Southside on the Bayside

    HDR sunset photograph of clouds, water, boats, docks and light made from Beach Haven, LBI. overlooking Little Egg Harbor
    Southside on the Bayside — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    I’ve got 18.6 miles of opportunity just to my east. It’s time I embrace it. Long Beach Island is a wonderful place—and now that I’ve found purpose by way of camera—I want to connect with my geographic neighbor better. See it in a better light if you’ll excuse me the super cheesy phrase. Particularly I want to scout LBI’s southern side. A place I’ve spent plenty of formative time growing up failing to appreciate what was staring my square in the face. There’s got to be plenty of great places to make photographs over there, and I want to find them.

    As for this here photograph? It was made last night on the west end of Engleside Avenue in Beach Haven. Just outside the newly opened Tucker’s (it’s good to see that back). It’s a simple parking lot overlooking some docks and Little Egg Harbor. This time of year, late Spring, offers a straight away view of the sunset. Allowing you to really line it up if that’s your thing.

    Conditions were pretty great last night, cloud wise. A small cell with heavy downpours managed to form just to my south. For a moment there seemed a real chance lightning might happen. While that never materialized, it was a quality shoot all-in-all. Minus the bugs. To hell with them.