Greg Molyneux Photography

Tag: salt marsh

Midas on the Marsh
Midas on the Marsh — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
What is it about gold? It’s beauty renown; it’s appeal universal. Coveted across cultures and throughout ages, gold transcends. An economist may chalk it up to scarcity. A philosopher may cite an intrinsic modality difficult for lesser minds to parse. An historian would describe it as a mechanism to transact both conquest, trade, and subjugation. While the artist muses on its form. A keen jeweler lauds its malleability and costly demand. The scientist matter of factly notes its place among the stars.
I like to think humanity has somehow known gold’s unique origin. An inbred sense of understanding its special creation. A creation that happens in the immediate aftermath of an exploding star. This is where the heavier metals come to be—the cauldron of a supernova factory. Through this gold shines through, connecting heaven and earth, culture and tribe, epoch and epoch. Whether in the search of avarice or beauty, gold calls to us all.
Interested in buying? Purchase
October 23, 2017
Come Again
Come Again — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
No two sunsets are the same. It is known. Yet in my half decade of chasing light, either patterns, clouds or color often share a degree of similarity. Last night felt different. Driven by three distinct cloud decks, a high level layer of cirrus sat above low level clouds arrayed across most of the sky. Undercutting those two distinct cloud decks was a fast moving marine layer firing near ground level clouds westward off the ocean. Three levels, each moving in different directions at different speeds.
A three-tiered cloud deck isn’t something I happen on too often, yet on its own is not exactly uncommon. Helping to stage the rarer setting was the well spaced gaps marking the reticulated cloud pattern. I’ve done this enough times to know the sun wasn’t getting underneath this layer of clouds. Which is to say they were not going to color up thanks to an unworkable angle. However, the high cirrus deck exposed behind the breaks in the lower level clouds offered a backdrop that could color up vividly. And that’s exactly what happened. A sunset light show ignited high above a layer of clouds that could have otherwise sent me home without a shot.
It was not only timing and spacing working in my favor last night. Nature threw out another solid by working in hints of purple. Purple is the color I happen upon least in all my sunset expeditions—which is now well in the hundreds. I am certain there is a physical explanation for why purple shows itself least. Perhaps owing to having the shortest wavelength and highest frequency of all visible light? I don’t know. Regardless hints of it worked into last night’s palette. You can see where the pink pastels begin to fade back to a deeper violet hue. This is most visible toward the top of the photograph, in the center. It’s reflected in the tide pool marking the foreground.
All in all it was a great night shooting—one I want to come again.
Interested in buying? Purchase
October 10, 2017
To the Point
To the Point — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
I’m brining it back to last Friday evening on Great Bay Boulevard. To my final set of seven brackets on what was an excellent first fall night. It was only moments earlier I scored this sunset before turning my camera vertical for blue hour. It was in this moment I thought about the past.
Vanishing points fascinate me. First introduced to the concept back in grade school art class I’ve been keen ever since. It unlocked the secrets of depth, proportion, scale and scope. Suddenly I could make my drawings fall back into the page, perspective now conquered. To an eager grade schooler it was akin to sorcery. The shroud pulled and in a single lesson my mind expanded.
The precepts from all those years ago are on display in this photograph. Here to the right Great Bay Boulevard itself retreats back to a single point at the center of the scene. It’s met with the parallel power lines and telephone poles falling back to said point. Everything here drives back to the same point on a line, shrinking as it goes. The marsh and puddles serve as more lines—albeit natural. Even the clouds are working it. All over lines leading the eye to the one vanishing point, the singularity of this world. And yet it’s a farce. Pursue as you may, you will never make it to the singular spot. It will keep its distance with cunning allure. It will remain as unconquerable as the rainbow and as elusive as its pot of gold. Still it is a wonder to see the world collapse down to a spot so small.
Interested in buying? Purchase
September 25, 2017
Fall Ahead
Fall Ahead — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
Each sky is different. Yet some remain the same. This is the paradox of the light chaser. Last night on Great Bay Boulevard I welcomed fall. Or spun to the proper hierarchy of things, it was fall who welcomed me. I have no power over seasons and remain her humble servant. It is in accordance to such peerage I will observe my station. Putting the power of things aside it was Mother Sky set in the seat of high honor. This fulfills a trend of quality sunsets in and around seasonal shifts. Confirmation bias may be at play but this seems the case over my now six years of shooting.
As I suggested at the start of this story last night’s sky brought me back to a mid-August evening in 2015. The twin skies bore striking resemblance to each other. To further the symbiosis was the location itself. I was also shooting on Great Bay Boulevard at sunset that night. On both occasions the marsh held sway in comparable colors—green pulling back to brown. The sky cast in a clean, piercing blue gaze. All this was set aglow moments before the sun set low beneath the horizon. In a rare showing, low set clouds lit up brief and bright, breathing fire to a scene of peace.
Interested in buying? Purchase
September 23, 2017
Yellow Kiss
Yellow Kiss — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
See the yellow kiss the marsh and pass the green of yesterday to memory. Seasons move and the lands do follow. Before the clocks of innovation the environment held sway. Celestial movement speaking the story of time through a perceptible and changing land. A change so clear to our ancient ancestors now seen so quaint in the eyes of our mankind machine. Our marriage to tools works to our freedom and subjugation. It’s the great paradox of humanity’s rise. The more we conquer the less we control. Masters of our own machinations mastered by the machinations that drive us. As with Alexander—we may steam role ever eastward writing histories and song to our exploits. Yet we leave little record to rule the glory left behind.
Then you look upon the marsh, untouched by man and kissed by light, and you reclaim the past. You watch the sun set and you perceive the world as our most ancient ancestors observed it. You see a changing place left only to the plotting of nature and time. A land left to evolve unadulterated as seasons come and go. No clock ticks to instruct us of this time. It is the hands of nature stretching out with an ephemeral grace to caress the green and kiss with yellow. For it is here we need no more than our eyes to tell of time—of life moving on.
Interested in buying? Purchase
September 1, 2017
Summer Turn
Summer Turn — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
Summer rode hard and fast. It was seldom visible. A blink or two and you missed it. August heeds the call to yield to September and the mercy of our fate turns toward fall. Year over year the pages of life’s daily calendar flip with increasing speed. Sure the pages tear easier yet its harder and harder to discard the time. Time we will never see again. It’s on this I reflect.
Every summer starts with grand designs. I’m going to carve more time for me. Get out on the water. Enjoy the beach. Clean up the house. Cultivate to the garden. Tend to my photography. Take some time off. Grand plans devolve to monotony and old habits. Work. Weekend obligations. Growing to-do list of chores. Traffic. Would be photographs going unmade. The annual dereliction of me—with plenty of sunshine to illuminate the fact.
Life stands now in opposition to the carefree childhood. A boyhood I cherish dear. Days never saw an end. Responsibilities were non-existent. It was a kaleidoscope of good friends, bike rides, swimming pools, rough-housing and sports. Throw in a vacation with the grandparents and plenty of backyard barbecues, too. For about a half-hour each evening the ice cream man owned the neighborhood. Long shadows doubled our party and seemed to linger with us for what felt like hours. With the flicker of lightning bugs came the close of the day. At the last the stars shone bright and sleep was the surest mechanism to bring about tomorrow. The morning would strike clean and bright and a quorum of friends would reunite. It was glorious.
The juxtaposition to 30-something missing all those things is stark. Yet as I said earlier it’s all time we are never to see again. So instead I am trying a new plan. I will go easier on myself. There is no reason to harp on past glory reminiscent of a Mark Twain yarn. Instead, I will let go of what I didn’t do this summer and focus on what comes next. For what comes next is the only sure thing we can change.
Interested in buying? Purchase
August 31, 2017
There and Back Again
There and Back Again — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
A swollen tide with ease to lend
Face kissed with salt the sweet scent friend.
Your heart beats slow about an oxbow bend
To the place you take there and back again.
Interested in buying? Purchase
July 21, 2017
And in the Evening
And in the Evening — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
Today is July 2, 2017, and I’d like to drop a historical nugget. Some eager beavers contented by their cache of fun facts (re: me) will care to remind you today is the actual anniversary of U.S. Independence. On July 2, 1776, the Second Continental Congress brought Richard Henry Lee’s motion to break with Britain to the floor for a vote. After several days of much cajoling, New York’s delegation finally acquiesced to abstain from the vote. This critical concession thus allowed unanimous passage of the resolution. Congress knew nothing less than a unified vote cast all in favor would carry the weight needed to bring the ensuing independence to pass. And so it went with a vote of 12-0 with New York agreeing to abstain.
While we all prepare to celebrate another Fourth of July Weekend, let us not lose sight of the momentous vote that took place on this day in 1776. Under the stewardship of brave men at the behest of their constituents this newborn nation embarked on the most consequential break in history. Thus casting the die for revolution and cradling the birth of a nation. I leave you with the words of John Adams, Massachusetts delegate and committee member for writing our Declaration of Independence:
The Second Day of July 1776, will be the most memorable Epocha, in the History of America.
I am apt to believe that it will be celebrated, by succeeding Generations, as the great anniversary Festival. It ought to be commemorated, as the Day of Deliverance by solemn Acts of Devotion to God Almighty. It ought to be solemnized with Pomp and Parade, with Shews, Games, Sports, Guns, Bells, Bonfires and Illuminations from one End of this Continent to the other from this Time forward forever more.
John Adams sure had the right of it—albeit two days early.
Interested in buying? Purchase
July 2, 2017
A Marsh Life
A Marsh Life — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
Take a minute. Look upon this photograph. Absorb the green marsh grasses. Feel the blades as they crunch below your feet. Calm yourself as you take note of the sky mirrored below, bending motionless through the sedge as a silken veil masquerading in still water. Now look up to that sky. An explosion of color, texture, power and allure beckons you. A visual display worthy of only the most perfect of sun downs. Mesmerizing cloud shapes are comping coming and going, splayed and stacked to unknowable depth. Finally you find yourself sitting out back of your coastal marsh home. The perfect kind of place that through the travel of years has become an edifice to your very existence. Breathing deep the sweet salt air transposed by the cacophony of colored calm that’s so ensconced your very existent. Fleeting as this minute will be you will take this gift and cherish it as a brief moment in your most perfect existence.
Interested in buying? Purchase
June 28, 2017