Greg Molyneux Photography

Tag: new jersey

Welcome to Makers Fest
What lies beyond — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/6
Heads up, New Jersey. Event incoming. Sure it’s some 9 months away, but I’m beyond pleased to share with you that I’ll be a small part of a great big event at Manahawkin Lake on September 17, 2016. The 2^nd annual Makers Festival will be unleashed upon the world, and I’ll be there peddling my wares. If you managed to attend last year’s event you know firsthand the fantastic production that is Makers Fest. But if you’re looking for more insight, you should absolutely check out their website, Facebook page, and Instagram account. Their follow comes with the highest recommendation.
As part of their highly organized and ardently purposeful marketing efforts all 2016 vendors were asked to provide answers to some or all of the following interview questions. Considering I’ve got this here website I thought why not blog out my answers here? So here goes:
Makers Fest Asks:
What is one thing you would like the public to know about your business?
I’m very new to the whole business aspect of this venture, so really I’d just want the people to know that I’ve recently launched my online SmugMug shop. It’s currently a work in progress, and I still plan on servicing requests for custom framed pieces, but the online shop is the place to go for quick and easy ordering, printing, and shipping of my work.
Where do you see yourself and your craft 5 years from now?
Obviously I want to continue to learn, grow, and improve in as many aspects of photography as possible; continually honing my workflow, strengthening my portfolio, and better representing the underrepresented beauty of New Jersey—with a particular focus on coastal and southern areas. Beyond that, I’d love to experiment with shooting film, creating video and time lapse productions, and becoming an evangelist of sorts for all this wonderful nature surrounding my home town of Manahawkin and the broader LBI region. In a perfect world I could merge my skill of public speaking with my passion for photography in a union that would bring knowledge, connection, and learning to any audience willing to listen.
Is your business a hobby, full-time work, or both?
Considering I’m now selling work it’s going to be tough to make my case as this being just a hobby, though that’s still how I parse it out in my own head. I work full time in a fulfilling career that is wholly separate from my photography. I think of my time behind the lens as a detachment from the day-to-day world that can even in the best of professions mire us all. While I’d love to someday have the good problem of making photographs as a singular profession, I don’t want this hobby to ever feel like work. I’d regret any attempt to monetize if the joy was stripped away at the hands of aggressive, business-type demands that can erode the creative process. But that wouldn’t exactly be a #FirstWorldProblem I’d cry too much about.
What would your advice be to others looking to start something similar?
Shoot. Shoot. And shoot some more. Did I forget to say go shoot? Oh, and don’t worry too much about your gear. Starting out as a complete neophyte photographer in 2012 with zero expectations and little to no camera experience, I participated in a photo a day project that saw me end the year with over 25,000 photographs taken on a used, first generation Canon Digital Rebel—they didn’t even have model numbers back then. Throughout the process I had heard all about how you need to get through your first 10,000 pictures. That these would be your worst, and that this kind of spray and pray method to photography was essential for gaining the skill for making good photographs. In my case, it was true. By the middle of 2012, things started to click, and here are there I began creating images that actually looked like they were made by someone who almost had a clue. It was a good, albeit unexpected development and I haven’t looked back.
So get out there. Do it every day. Photograph everything. Experiment with the different manual settings to see how these choices affect your final image. Celebrate your victories, learn from your losses, and reward yourself for hitting your goals—even if it’s committing to take a picture a day for a month. Most important: have fun. As soon as it feels like a chore it’s over. Oh, and if you think you want to be a landscape photographer do invest in a sturdy tripod—that’s one bit of gear you should prioritize.
What is your favorite part about working in the creative field?
Stress relief and bringing joy to others. It’s equal parts humbling and empowering to watch someone react positively to something you had a hand in creating. It makes all the ups and downs, all the effort, all the focus, and all those times you just want to throw in the towel worth it. It’s a gift to open up to others such that they too can share an experience.
What do you think the most common misconception is about your craft?
The belief that gear is everything. Now I’m not saying equipment doesn’t matter, or won’t bring some improvement to your photographs, but it’s not the panacea for great pictures, either. The greatest camera and lens combo in the world will not magically conjure great lighting conditions, or manifest interesting foreground to compose your frames for you. And considering these powerhouse devices we’ve got kicking around in our pockets, a great photograph is only a click away from your mobile device. I’m continually impressed with the photographs I can make right on my iPhone. So do yourself a favor: don’t let costly gear be a barrier to entry. The drain on your wallet can always come later.
What inspires your work?
A combination of wanting to show off our area for all its worth, and a competitive drive to be the very best I can be. When I see the magnificent work of others and the hair on the back of my neck stands up, I think to myself, that’s how I hope people respond to my work someday. That’s what drives me.
Why did you choose to participate in The Makers Festival?
First of all I love every single thing your organization is doing. Every. Single. Thing. Highlighting the undercurrent of local talent that has largely flown under the radar in a region that’s not exactly known for a happening art scene. It’s better yet that this is an organization run by women. I’m all about doing stuff outside the norm that breaks free of the tropes, perils, and frankly boredom of patriarchal paradigms. I can’t say enough how great it is to be part of something new and different. I’m honored and surprised to be selected among such a talented crew of artists, creators, and makers. You’re creating opportunity where there was none, and working to put the LBI region on the map for more than just its sunny beaches and seasonal watering holes.
What motivates you in the face of adversity?
I’d like to sit here and mash out words to suggest this is an area of strength and experience. Truthfully adversity and I have a mixed record, but I’m working hard to appreciate the necessary relationship with adversity, failure, and struggle recognizing they are key ingredients to any learning process. The most important takeaway? Sometimes the stress and discomfort will open new doors that were otherwise unseen. My own relationship with photography was born of such struggle.
If you could choose any superpower, what would it be and why?
Time travel. As a lover of history I’d be endlessly educated if I could travel to key places and points of time. If only to simply observe what actually happened. I wouldn’t want to change things and create some kind of paradox in the spacetime continuum, I’d just want to sit and observe first hand as a time traveling fly on the wall, able to better assess events as they actually happened such that I could measure them against narratives that have become for better or for worse ingrained in conventional wisdom.
December 16, 2015
Let’s Talk About the Weather
A Sign of the Times — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | EXP 0.8 sec
I’ve been sitting on these two photos for days; sulking in my own prison, shackled by the nonsense sentencing of my own perfectionist imposition. In some kind of martyred protest for the way events unfolded this past Tuesday, June 23^rd. In other words acting like a petulant child.
I’ll spare the minutia but Tuesday started off all sorts of wrong thanks to an internet connectivity outage that interrupted much of coastal New Jersey for the better part of a day. A nightmare for Facebookers everywhere. This laid waste to my plans and sent me into the office on a day I was prepared to work from home. Just as importantly on a day I was prepared to shoot. Was prepared being the operative words here. You see, the best thunderstorm threat of 2015 thus far was becoming quite likely 24 hours out, and that the weather event would coincide with the golden and twilight hours. All the ingredients, man.
Connectivity issues be damned I put on my big boy pants, packed my things, and went to work. Accepting fate through self-deprecating laughter it was at this time I struck storm chasing from the day’s to-do’s and instead shifted focus to my deliverables. Yadda, yadda, yadda a day’s work and hit fast forward to leaving the office: the line of storms was about 30 miles to my south and west, moving due east at roughly 45 MPH. Could it be true? A chance for a well-timed rendezvous? Based on RadarScope positioning, I estimated the clock would afford enough time to get to my house to grab my gear. Everything looked great until I hit the light at County Road 539 and NJ-70 (~23minutes from my house); the already impressive line was expanding from the middle out into a bonafide bow segment driving across Salem, Gloucester, Burlington, and into Ocean and Atlantic Counties at an accelerated rate. By the time I made it to NJ-72 and turned eastward, the veil of black dominating my rearview said it all: getting to Dock Road for photos in time for the storm was simply out of the question. At this point it was simply get home, Greg.
Insert a rain, wind, and light show and you have what was a 15 minute raucous ride out at my house. Immediately afterwards text from friends and look to the west let me in on a little secret: the sun was going to get under these impressive cloud formations and roving lightning strikes just in time for sunset. Everything was in play—lightning, rainbows, a palette of intense color, dogs and cats living together? Without a second thought I loaded the car and made for Dock Road.
Posted up at my usual spot the scene was something. Storm clouds rolling, strong wind shipping, thunder clapping mere seconds after spokes of lightning splayed across the sky, pouring rain, and one rapidly developing sunset. Car bound thanks to rain and lightning I was missing out. If I could have kept my lenses dry I would have said to hell with the lightning and risked it, but the rain was too strong to get more than one clear shot off at any one time. At this point I was lamenting (re: complaining) to Twitter that I was 5 miles too far to the south. A few minutes into my pity party the rapidly intensifying light at my back (to the west) mixed with falling rain put me on instant rainbow alert. Seconds later there it was: bold and beautiful straddling Dock Road in full double rainbow regalia. Thunder was booming, lightning was cracking, the sun was shining, and this rainbow was saying hey, what’s up armchair photographer man? It was glorious.
It was then my mind downshifted into the hell with everything mode. I grabbed my tripod and set it up in the middle of a kaleidoscopic Dock Road. I fixed my camera, pressed the shutter, and proceeded to make a huge mistake. After the first shutter press I realized I didn’t have my two second timer enabled—I always use this to prevent any camera shake as the shutter is depressed and the mirror flips. Except this time it screwed me. Royally. I quickly enabled the timer, pressed said shutter, and immediately witnessed one very bad ass lightning strike sprawl throughout the sky, originating from dead smack in the middle of the rainbow. As the two second wait for eternity was up, the lightning was gone and the picture was taken. With nothing but the rainbow you see above. I blew my chance. I made a mistake and it was all www.nooooooooooooooo.com from there. Three and a half years into photography and I fold like a tent in the midst the best lighting/environment/sky conditions I’ve yet to encounter. Maybe next time I won’t choke so hard. Whenever that is.
Kaleidoscopic — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/30
June 26, 2015
Long Exposure Carnival Swings
On Saturn’s Rings — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | EXP 1 sec
When the nice weather comes you’ve gotta move. Yesterday was beautiful and revelers from all over descended upon a retooled Seaside Heights Boardwalk to soak in some sun, surf, boardwalk fare and top-notch people watching. Never having been one to sing odes to the virtues of a once beleaguered Seaside Boardwalk, I was beyond impressed to see the result of a double rebuild; first at the hands of Sandy and then by way of substantial fire. It’s been a rough few years along New Jersey’s shore but if appearances are any judge a bounce back is in the works.
Circular Motion — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | EXP 1.3 sec
After some walking, eating and possible drinking we made for the car and the camera bags. After footing it back to Casino Pier the sun was making its final descent. With marine layer clouds blotting out the sunset we killed some time hitting the rides. First came Disko and then came Tilt-a-Whirl. Click the link, watch the video.
Once that nonsense was out of the way we finally set up and made our long exposures. Back dropped by the bright lights and a soothing blue hour, conditions were ideal to make a photograph I’ve long since coveted: long exposure carnival swings. Without having to deal with swelling crowds, we were able to set up for a good ten minutes of uninterrupted shooting as day transitioned to night. For a first crack, I’m quite pleased with the result.
The Suspended Spirit — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | EXP 3.2 sec
Hoping for one more run of exposures, the ride called Wave Swinger was shut-down. The hopeful riders you see above were propped up for a handful of revolutions before being levied a premature return to solid ground in the cold form of diamond plate steel. Off they went left with little more than suspended spirit.
For those interested in the physics behind carnival swings and circular motion.
April 19, 2015
Best Photographs of 2014
I’ve taken 6,386 photographs with my DSLR this year—short ~250 that were deleted immediately on account of poor quality—and easily my lowest total since I began shooting January 1, 2012. For some perspective, I took well over 25,000 pictures that first year but don’t let the lower total fool you; I’ve no doubt become more selective in my shooting—ditching spray and pray tactics in favor of a more established process. Thanks to the experience I’ve gained over the past three years, 2014 represents my best year as a photographer. I launched this website in a rare spat of motivation on January 18, 2014, and I’ve processed and posted 136 photographs (and counting at the time of this posting) since. I thought I’d share with you my personal favorites from throughout the year.
Winter has its ways — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 3 Bracketed Exposures
Winter has its ways | Taken: January 23, 2014 | Location: Antoinetta’s Restaurant, Cedar Run Dock Road, West Creek, NJ
Two things stand out from last winter once dates flipped to the January side of the calendar: 1) Polar Vortex cold, and 2) the great sunsets it wrought. As a sunset landscape photographer early 2014 brought the goods to the New Jersey coast, rendering multiple standout sunsets each week. This reality will be reflected over the next few shots in the series, but this particular photograph stands out for me as my favorite sunset shot I’ve been lucky enough to make—not just this year but ever.
What really makes it a standout for me is the coupling of the frozen bay and the lines it creates with the deep purple and scarlet red sky that I covet so much. The marching clouds moving steadfast out of the southern vanishing point splay out in almost winged fashion as they moves off screen to the top left. There’s just so much sweetness happening right here.
I’ll leave you when the summertime — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
I’ll leave you when the summertime | Taken: February 1, 2014 | Location: Great Bay Boulevard, Little Egg Harbor, NJ
When rich pastels, a smattering of snow pack, and water still as glass come together you have all the ingredients of a great sunset photo opportunity. All you’ve got to do is compose it, breathe, and fire. With this shot, aside from the great colors, I like the way the pink clouds racing across the horizon to the left are counterbalanced by the angle of the water moving off screen to the bottom right. It brings the right kind of movement and balance to the photograph that makes it a standout for me.
This title is lyrically inspired. Having been one of the coldest winters I can remember I was listening to Led Zeppelin’s “Babe I’m Gonna Leave You” and the line “I’ll leave you when the summertime” just stuck with me.
The path before me — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
The path before me | Taken: February 7, 2014 | Location: Cedar Run Dock Road, West Creek, NJ
More cold, more great sunsets. Here’s another shot from Dock Road, taken about 1/4 quarter mile west of Winter has its ways above. To make this photograph I set my tripod about 18 inches off the ground, set back about two feet from where that small tidal pool spills out onto the pebbles in the foreground. That opening is only about two feet wide. That’s where the magic of the 14mm wide angle comes into play, making the whole scene larger than life as it pushes everything back toward the vanishing point; in this case driving all eye movement to just right of center along the horizon.
A subtle loss of clarity — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/15
A subtle loss of clarity | Taken: February 18, 2014 | Location: Great Bay Boulevard, Little Egg Harbor, NJ
Hey, alright! The first photograph in the not sunset division. I love black and white. Growing up as a wannabe photorealist pencil drawer I did just about everything in black and white. Resorting to other mediums only as mandated by the art teacher. And while color has grown on me in surprising ways, black and white will always hold a special place.
Specific to this low key black and white landscape I was going for a moody, dead-zone February vibe. Coupled with this lazy shutter trick I sometimes try where at slightly sluggish speeds—1/15 of a second in this case—I pan the camera across the horizon, holding the camera steady turning only at the hips from left to right. Executed correctly—which is equal parts luck, voodoo, and skill—it can create a really cool ethereal effect. With this shot, the soft undulating water ripples move me peacefully through the photo despite its apparent darkness.
Your day breaks — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
Your day breaks | Taken: February 22, 2014 | Location: 13^th Street, Ship Bottom, NJ
I am not a morning person. That means I miss just about all the sunrises. This is probably a fail on my part considering I have the whole of the Atlantic Ocean like 6 miles to my east. Lucky for me on February 22^nd I was awake. I can’t remember what made that morning different from any other in terms of waking up early, but hey, it paid off.
When I was composing this shot I wanted to capitalize on two key features: 1) the dune fence arcing from left to right, and 2) the sweeping cloud diving in from the top right corner that eerily reminds me of one enormous looming moon. The curving trajectories of these two features play so nicely together, achieving the balance I seek with my work. Of course this is all enhanced as its backlit by gorgeous sunrise light.
More lyrically inspired titles—the opening line to the Beatles “For No One” seemed perfectly apt.
And hey, let’s here it for February 2014!—this marks four selections for the month, the most of any month in this retrospective.
Barnegat Bay dockside — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
Barnegat Bay dockside | Taken: May 11, 2014 | Location: Sunset Park, Surf City, NJ
Here’s my runner up to Winter has its ways as second best sunset photo of the year. I dig everything about this picture. The way the blues and pinks work together; the subtle movement to the colors reflected in the bay; the cotton candy clouds drifting the sky; and the foreground marked by knotty boards and one small stone. It’s a minimal composition that I’m definitely proud of.
It starts with one — 100mm | f/4 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/400
It starts with one | Taken: June 27, 2014 | Location: My house, Manahawkin, NJ
Gear change. Time for a run of flower macros. This is really how I got my start with a camera in 2012. For much of that year I shot macro exclusively, focusing mostly on flowers and bugs. And while I’ve since grown up as a landscape photographer, I still really enjoy making the small world big with macro.
In this shot I’ve pulled a lot of personal favorite styles together. Black and white processing; low key mood; minimalist subject with one yet-to-bloom daisy; and a shallow depth of field. I want the eye to play between the soft grey shadow to the left of the offset daisy bud to the right, highlighted in the glow of an offscreen light source. It’s a simple scene, and that suits my style just fine.
The last of us — 100mm | f/4 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/250
The last of us | Taken: September 5, 2014 | Location: My house, Manahawkin, NJ
Fact: purple coneflower is one of my all time favorite flowers to photograph. Their size, color, and shape make an ideal macro candidate. This little guy is potted in my backyard, and he was still standing tall into September. Knowing its time was coming I went for the camera. I had about 10 more minutes of afternoon light before the sun would slip behind my house, turning off the light source. Shooting handheld I set my focus to just sharpen the petal tips, letting the rest of the flower fall into soft focus and bokeh. The result? One of my favorite flower macros of the year.
I’d love to see you in that dress — 100mm | f/4 | ISO 500 | EXP 1/1000
I’d love to see you in that dress | Taken: September 6, 2014 | Location: Reclaimed LLC, New Gretna, NJ
Here it is, folks. My number one favorite shot of the year. Starting with a single Klondyke Sunny Red in Ben Wurst’s front yard wildflower bed, I made a handheld macro photograph aiming directly at the flower from its waistline if you will. What struck me staring down the barrel of my viewfinder was how much this beautiful flower made my mind’s eye behold a graceful dancer twirling the most beautiful cocktail dress. With consideration toward the wonderful femininity inherent in this photograph, I went with a proper high key black and white treatment to accent the softness and sensuality that is this photograph.
This shot I made is a total departure from my normal photo M.O. That no doubt is what makes it even more special to me, and why it stands atop my 2014 list.
Update: if you’ve got the time please check out Ben Wurst’s best photographs of 2014.
Safe harbor — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
Safe harbor | Taken: September 22, 2014 | Location: Barnegat Lighthouse, Barnegat Light, NJ
Barnegat Lighthouse, easily the most famous landmark within ~30 miles of my house. I don’t get out there to photograph nearly enough, and this represents one of only three Old Barney shots I’ve posted. Lucky for me the sunset and subsequent blue hour was jamming on September 22^nd. I posted up with my tripod out on the jetty rock figuring it would provide my best vantage point and composition for this time of year. Seconds before I periscoped my tripod head northward to make this shot above, I was panned to my left taking this wonderful sunset. The light was crazy, rendering one of the best skies of the year. Some days you just get lucky.
Watch the spray — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/50
Watch the spray | Taken: October 12, 2014 | Location: Surf City, NJ
For me this shot is more about the moment. With the tide out and the dampened sand too soft, using the tripod was not an option. Wherever possible, whenever possible, however possible, my goal is to shoot landscape fixed to a tripod. With the added stillness it assures, and my penchant for bracketing multiple exposures, it’s an absolute must. But sometimes your surroundings are not wont to accommodate. On this October evening I decided to not only go handheld but to get a little reckless (by my OCD camera standards). Here’s an excerpt from the post:
There was a lone piece of jetty rock set about 6 feet away from the main jetty. Between waves I was running up to the rock, dangling my camera about 3 inches from the sand, and trying to time the shutter with water spray firing off said rock. Since I was shooting a mere 15 inches from the jetty rock, the big risk was getting myself and my camera out of there before the spray got to me. All went well, and I got a sweet shot.
On matters of hobbits — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/30
On matters of hobbits | Taken: October 18, 2014 | Location: Batsto Village, Hammonton, NJ
Get thee to Batsto Village in Autumn. Tucked away in Wharton State Forest it’s a wonderful place to visit, capturing an 18^th century town frozen in time in the middle of the Pinelands. I was lucky enough to photowalk the grounds with a few friends just as the maples were beginning to fire with all their orange, red, and yellow fury. Juxtaposed with the still green grass washed in late day sun, the place looked great. I made several keepers in just about 90 minutes of shooting, but this one is my personal favorite. It’s fun and it breaks the rules a little bit—with blown out skies, crooked horizon and odd angles. But sometimes breaking the rules is the best course of action in your photo work.
That’s it. We made it. Stepping back through the year was tons of fun—far surpassing expectations. I’m already looking forward to doing it again next year.
And how about a shout-out for the south Jersey? Every photograph here was taken within 25 miles of my house. If you toss the Batsto shot at the end, that drops down to about 12 miles. So many great spots right in my backyard. Be sure to check out my best of work from 2015 and 2016.
Retrospective
December 24, 2014
Fall Foliage: The Best of Batsto Village in Autumn
West side manse — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/250
Batsto Village—Wharton State Forest—Hammonton, New Jersey
There’s much to love about New Jersey and its southern pines. But for me Batsto Village in Fall just may hold the Pinelands top spot. Rich in maples, colors come alive transforming this once thriving iron works village into a canvas of orange wonder amidst architecture of an era gone by. With its history reaching back to the late mid 18^th century, a near decade before the shot heard ’round the world, Batsto Village has gone through several historical periods of development before its final purchase by the state of New Jersey in the mid 1950s. It has served dutifully as a great public destination ever since.
A couple weekends ago, I made the thirty minute drive with some friends to photowalk these hallowed Autumn grounds. Conditions were ideal—roughly a week or so before foliage peak with near perfect golden hour light. In the parking lot, unsure which lens to rock, I opted for the 14mm prime and ditched the tripod. I committed to myself to walk, shoot, and enjoy. Nothing more, nothing less. So that’s precisely what I did, and I hope you enjoy some of my favorite pictures from that one fine October afternoon.
The Batsto Mansion
The 32-room Mansion, sits at the heart of Batsto Village, and served as the former residence of generations of ironmasters and reflects the prosperity enjoyed during Batsto’s industrial years. In the late 19th century, the structure was renovated into the elegant Italianate style of architecture by Joseph Wharton, a Philadelphia businessman. Fourteen rooms, including the parlors, dining room, library and bedrooms, are currently open to the public for tours. — source
I’ve yet to take the tour, but I must get in there with my camera someday soon. For any Disney World fans out there, the Batsto manse has Magic Kingdom’s Haunted Mansion written all over it.
Fall colors creeping in — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 3 Bracketed Exposures
West side manse — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/250
A square deal — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/160
Framing maple — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/100
The General Store
When Joseph Wharton acquired Batsto Village, he moved the entrance to the General Store from the side of the building, which faced the Mansion, to its present location. During the 1800s, the store was usually open six days a week. Here, workers from the Village could purchase a variety of goods, ranging from fruits and vegetables to guns and farm equipment. — source
If you can remember back to the five day black and white challenge I recently finished up, this building has one hell of a porch. I didn’t get any color shots of it here, however, and in the shots below we’re left looking at the general store’s backside. The old country porch (think Old Country Buffet) was loaded with photographers and subjects maximizing the perfect lighting conditions.
Oh that autumn glow — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/800
On matters of hobbits — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/30
The Batsto Village Grounds
Along the lakeside is one of the finest maples on the entire property (right there with the Mansion maple pictured above). Tall and regal it’s proven difficult for me to frame up and photograph. Pictured below, set behind the bench, we get but a glimpse of what this tree has to offer. So for now it is a subject that remains on the ever growing things to shoot better list.
The transient nature of leaves — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/80
Going into this post I didn’t quite know what to expect. I’ve never done a comprehensive collection like this. Now that I’ve wrapped up writing and am tidying up the edits, I think I’m going to make this an ever growing collection of Batsto Village Fall Photography. Hopefully throughout the years ahead this post will continue to grow and evolve, showing more of Batsto’s Autumn splendor. In the meantime, if I get to pick a personal favorite so far it’s On the matters of hobbits.
Thanks for stopping by.
November 1, 2014