Hooray for change of venue. Particularly when said venue change is this good. Thanks for the suggestion, Ben Wurst!
For years—well over a decade—I’ve heard stories of the Top of the World. This so-called “high-point” ensconced amid the New Jersey Pinelands’ Pygmy Pine Forest. I use the term high-point loosely as there is essentially zero elevation here in Ocean County, New Jersey. Nevertheless, at this unique geographic confluence, dwarf pines—not much taller than my waist—sprawl toward the horizon in all directions from what amounts to a very gradual 30 or 40 foot high vantage point. Of course Sun Tzu has been teaching us the merits of having the high ground for thousands of years. If it works in war, why not photography?
Being this high up among trees so small forgot made for a surreal setting. Surreal in the best possible way. Seemingly perched as a giant atop a magical forest canopy, over the course of two hours I admired the sunlight as it did its golden hour into sunset and then blue hour thing. With each segment in time bringing a brand new vibe to my new surroundings.
You’ll see more of what I’m talking about tomorrow when I post my sunset shot from tonight. For now I leave you with an energized golden hour that worked its way down the trail from which I came. To execute this shot I had to get real small with my tripod off to the right corner so as not to cast my own shadow and compromise the shot. To give some perspective on just how small these trees are, that one in the foreground to the right, it stands at no more than seven feet tall. Towering over the rest, you can see the others struggle to make it merely half as high.
Trail Rides and Snowy Pines — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/30
If literal titles are your thing, this post is for you.
In a shocking turn of events I woke up early this morning. 5:00 a.m. to be precise. Outside of snowfall and fishing, it’s a tall order to release me from the grip of my warm bed during morning hours. Unless we’re talking about work—which I seldom necessitates my waking up too early. Alas a morning person I am not.
Sleep be damned, with the excitement of fresh powder during a snow starved year there was no way I was going to miss this opportunity. Even if the wind chills resembled something you’d more likely feel defending your hidden rebel base on Hoth—and that’s without an odiferous Tauntaun to warm your bones. But I digress.
As I am decidedly lacking in snow photographs I have to exploit all opportunities to shoot it that I am given. The small body of snowfall work is the culprit of a three-part beast: 1) snow can be hard to come by in coastal Ocean County; which relates to reason 2) that I just don’t have enough experience making photographs of snow; and 3) my vehicle is simply too unsafe to drive in snow.
Fortunately today at least two of the mitigating factors were addressed: a widespread swath of 4″–6″ blanketed Ocean County into the early hours this morning, and I had Jon Carr drive in his Jeep Cherokee. And so it was, Wawa coffees in hand, embarking on a predawn journey into the Pinelands. Much of the next two hours consisted of minimal photography but maximum enjoyment. While great scenes with dramatic light were hardly reaching out to grab us, we just cruised the trails (re: made a bunch of wrong turns) like we’ve done so many times with our crew over these past 17 years. I’m a huge fan of the New Jersey Pinelands regardless of the season, but there’s just something special when they’re draped in snow.
A cold trade for warm sunshine — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
Hey, look! I took a photograph that isn’t a sunset. Whew. Before I locked in on yesterday’s blue hour special, I set down the tripod atop a small ridge overlooking the front lake of Stafford Forge Wildlife Management Area in an attempt at capturing the potent golden light that was pouring into the Pinelands. The pine needles dominating the ground cover were charged with such a glow the look of the whole scene defied the crisp feel of the 27ºF air. This has the look of June, not January. But hey, it’s warm enough when you’re looking at the picture from your living room.
I love the Pinelands. I’m right on their doorstep and hope to photograph this underrated New Jersey gem more often in the future. If and when I get myself an all-wheel drive vehicle it’ll open up my photo access greatly. For now I am left hitching rides in the trucks of my buddies.
Update: Shameless self-promotion alert—this here website is 1 year old today. Hooray for anniversaries.
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 18th 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 ExposuresWest side manse — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/250A square deal — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/160Framing 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 1/800On 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.
Around that bend is Kewe — 40mm | f/8 | ISO 800 | EXP 1/13
I took this photograph tonight at scare school. That’s right. Scare school. My awesome friends are getting ready to put on the third annual Zombie Outbreak at the Joseph A. Citta Scout Reservation in Brookville, New Jersey, tomorrow (10/24) and Saturday (10/25). We set up a wicked zombie village walkthrough deep in the pines and all proceeds go to charity.
Tonight we met up with some volunteers to go over the basics. Ergo scare school. I took this shot just after sunset making way through the trails to the backside of where it’s all going down: the Kewe Campsite. This weekend is going to be great, and hopefully I have a picture or two to share.
Go East, my friend — 40mm | f/8 | ISO 400 | 3 Bracketed Exposures
Here’s the last of the three shots from Sunday’s photo mission. After our time messing around in the cold, steam rising bog we decided to do a little four-wheelin’. The Pinelands are littered with trails, some maintained better than others, and it’s a great way to spend time with friends. Over the years they’ve mostly been midnight excursions, but now that we’ve turned photographer there’s more reason to get out there in daylight.
As our two truck convoy was humming along deeper and deeper into the pines, the low sun angle was creating wondrous light play atop the tree line. At this one particular bend we stopped our vehicular exploration to get out and shoot on foot. Off the main trail was this little eastward spur illuminated by a lovely little sunbeam. Upon composing my shot I held my breathe and fired off three bracketed exposures handheld. Normally I’d say go for the tripod, but every now and then, particularly with my 40mm, I like to challenge myself and test my stillness.
While I’m hesitant to say for sure, I think I prefer this shot to the first offering, even though the light in that one was pure magic. Yesterday’s post, however, represents a distant third. But that’s not for me to decide. That is up to you.
Casual aside: As a long time Legend of Zelda fanatic I can’t help but think of the open-ended exploration of the Lost Woods. Ah, memories.
A pine for every season — 40mm | f/2.8 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/100
Yesterday morning was cold, and yet you wouldn’t know it from this photograph. It never ceases to amaze me, the indiscernible nature of pines. Without their pine cones as a guide or air temperature as an indicator, it’s virtually impossible to distinguish a season on looks alone. While their deciduous cousins are annually betrayed by fallen leaves the interminable pine stands above, immovable. Timeless.
As I was skulking around the Greenwood Forest Wildlife Management Area scoping out yesterday’s steamy ray shot, I made an about face and saw some wonderful golden light breathing life into a once innocuous pine branch no more than two feet from my face. As I was already loaded up with my 40mm pancake lens, I set the aperture wide open and went for some close range shallow depth of field goodness.
It’s a secret to everybody — 40mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 3 Bracketed Exposures
Kudos to Ben Wurst for planting the seed of a Sunday morning sunrise shoot in the pines earlier this week. It takes a lot to get this guy rolling in the pre-dawn hours—especially on weekends. But as tough as it is to get up, it’s always a touch easier if it’s for fishing or for photos.
When it was settled where we’d meet up this morning my excitement for the locale began to overwhelm my denial of having to wake up so early. Along my route to work each day, about 14 miles into my journey, I pass a low bog in the heart of the pines. It offers an eastern face for sunrise and a western view for sunset, each from County Road 539. Unfortunately I’m always en route to and from the career gig and have yet to take advantage of the opportunity to stop and shoot. That changed this morning.
Thinking I’d be setting up overlooking the roadside bog, I was shocked to find the most well manicured, 10 inch wide path through the pine forest. It was comically quaint. It would be the perfect fit for David the Gnome types. Something straight out of The Legend of Zelda. Excited by my discovery, I led us down the path. It wasn’t more than a tenth of mile in that we came upon another access to the bog. What’s more? It had its own wooden walkway making a loose 150 yard circle around the bog.
The air was crisp. The sky was clear. The steam was rising. At this point my focus was all about getting a proper ray shot. The kind where rays of sunlight make there way through steam/fog/condensation with rich golden light. I was pleased that my handheld camera, 40mm, and I were able to get it done.
The Burned Lands — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
While not like to evoke thoughts of General Sherman and his strategy of scorched earth, the charred remains of a solemn tree stump flanked by the onset of lush grass rising in the ashen remains of last month’s controlled burn make for a calming scene, particularly at sunset. Carefully planned fires are a way of life down here—in the quiet Pinelands of New Jersey—overgrown undergrowth and grasses are burned away allowing new, more healthy flora to take hold. And if it wasn’t purposeful humans setting the fires, nature and/or the careless ash of a cigarette butt would do the same—only more often; jeopardizing the homes and wildlife throughout our region. Kudos to the local fire service for safely making this happen.
The Stafford Forge Wildlife Management Area was transformed a few week’s back by a manmade blaze. In a matter of days fresh grasses began to spread, setting the stage for the next generation of growth at the outer boundaries of the Pines. As I was milling about looking for my shot, I spotted the remains of this torched stump hiding in plain site amidst a field of nothing but nascent grass the color of lime. Immediately I knew I had my foreground.
The sky was hardly the greatest but conditions were solid all around. It’s my goal to return in the near future to use this stump as a foreground prop at least once more before the tall grasses return, swallowing the burnt remains whole. As always the cycle continues.
