Greg Molyneux Photography

Tag: sunset

Sunset photography

  • We Face the Path of Time

    We Face the Path of Time

    HDR photograph of an abandoned dock set afire by intense sunset color
    We Face the Path of Time — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    I’m still basking in the glow of last night’s awesomesauce. And as much as I like the photograph posted last night, this one beats it out ever so slightly as far as I’m concerned. I realize we’re splitting hairs here and traipsing into the realm of subjectivity. But that’s all part of the fun—it doesn’t matter what I like, all that matters is what you like. While we’re all in this together we get to bring our own experience and thought into each and every photograph. And that’s p kool as far as I’m concerned.

    In my previous post I talked about how I was all over the place trying to lockdown an ideal composition worthy of a killer sunset. The spot above is where the lion share of hemming and hawing went down. I just couldn’t get locked in. Do I get low? Do I go high? How many poles should I incorporate from the dock in my foreground? How much marsh should I capture along the right side of the frame? Is it balanced with the water to the left? On it went. Ultimately I settled in at a spot straddling a missing piece of board along the gangway. It wasn’t quite as precarious as it sounds, but when you’ve got camera equipment you care about riding the edge of no tomorrow there’s always pause for concern. But remember the mantra: you do what it takes to make the shot. That’s especially true when you’ve got light on a level that only happens a handful of times a year. Of course the fact that I bailed on this position to make last night’s shot, which at the moment I thought of as a last ditch effort to make a better image, speaks to trusting your instincts. The upshot to this indecision? I’ve got two damn fine photographs to add to my stockpile.

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  • Ruinous Splendor

    Ruinous Splendor

    HDR photograph of a fiery sunset mirrored over reflective water
    Ruinous Splendor — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    I — II — II — X . . . if roman numerals are your thing.

    How about tonight’s sunset, New Jersey? Conditions from Great Bay Boulevard were just about as good as it gets—30+ minutes of standout light play working off intricate cloud structures overtop reflective bay water. If air guitar’s your thing, now would be the time.

    Normally in this situation I settle into my composition quite naturally. It’s a rare area of decisiveness for me, and I almost wholly rely on my first instinct and ride out that whim compositionally. Usually a quick walkthrough of my target location—stopping occasionally to just look down the viewfinder from at most a handful of positions and angles. Once that’s locked in I grab my tripod, dial in, and wait. Wait for the big time color that comes after the sun goes down. Free and easy, just how I like it.

    This afternoon on the other hand I was all out sorts, bouncing around from spot to spot struggling to find the ideal angle to shoot. At first I thought I had it  only to be moments later second guessing myself. This process repeated several times over. For the next twenty minutes or so. Down to the end, really. This photograph here came seconds after full sprint running, camera still fixed to tripod from the spot I thought I was going to ultimately choose—I will share its photograph here tomorrow.

    Suffice to say today I was fated to work for it. And that’s OK, because you know what? That sky tonight was incredible and it was good to feel the pressure of wanting to make the absolute most of a rare opportunity before it fades. Or maybe this was just an ill-timed dance with perfection questioning my best? Even so, I’m choosing to take this experience as an overwhelming positive. Start to finish tonight’s shoot was just awesome. Easily the best of the year. Would do it again.

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  • I can still see clear but I dare not feel

    I can still see clear but I dare not feel

    Landscape HDR photograph of pastel color cirrus clouds at sunset
    I can still see clear but I dare not feel — 14mm | f/8 | ISO | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    I’ve been sitting on this photograph for a few hours now reluctant to process. With my mind getting the better of me these past two days I was keen to not turn this picture and its subsequent post into one giant window to my struggle. So I’ll just leave it here with the statement that I wasn’t occupying the best headspace out on the Dock Road marsh in spite of this beautiful sunset Mother Nature brought before me. Most always picture making lifts my spirit. Today I was tied down in chains.

    Frankly all credit for this shot goes to the fellas at SunsetWx. They nailed today’s forecast. Under a dome of clear skies and seasonally warm temperatures all day I put zero thought toward any kind of photography today. But then during another tedious experience watching football I saw this tweet roll through my stream and if nothing else was at least offered an escape from witnessing another Giants’ loss. Once again their model was right on the money.

    Compositionally I played it safe tonight, unabashedly borrowing the setup from Look Down On It. Chalk it up to moodiness, lack of inspiration, or the simple fact that I think well of the meandering run of water that carries the eye in a slight switchback up the middle of the photograph and out into the sky.

    Here’s to tomorrow.

  • Sunset Weather

    Wide angle HDR landscape photograph of a pastel color sunset over a mirrored lake at Stafford Forge
    Sunset Weather — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    Photographers: You Should Follow SunsetWx

    Information is good. Good information is better. Recently a significant offering was made to the information toolkit of sunset chasers plying their craft in the continental U.S.—or CONUS as you’ll see on their website. Little more than a week ago three meteorologists, inspired to pull together a ‘Sunset Model,’ unleashed maps output from a proprietary algorithm churning out regular reports to the general public based on data populated by the 4 km NAM weather model. In their own words factoring (emphasis my own):

    The model itself takes primary elements into account: Moisture, pressure, and cloud cover. Using our knowledge of the atmosphere, we started with a basic idea of what variables are important, and their relative importance to one another. . . We quickly realized that some things were more important than others, and decided on a weighting scheme. After many trial runs and verifications, we weighted moisture the most.

    Quick to buy in I didn’t even need to be shown proof of its accuracy, but after verifying sunsets the country over, including the two standout waves that hit the PHL-NYC corridor over the past two weeks, I was all in. So now when I see @sunset_wx tweets like the one below my sunset battle plan is armed with better, more scientific information than ever before; strengthening my decision making process on sunset spots to seek. Tonight, knowing the middle section of southern New Jersey was in the sweet spot, made choosing the western exposure of Stafford Forge the obvious choice.

    Sure enough the forecast verified with a solid to good sunset, let’s call it a B- and aligned with SunsetWx’s scale; and I, in turn, went home with some good exposures in the hopper to share with all of you. There’s no doubt I’ll be talking up the boon gifted to us by SunsetWx in the future, but for now you can find them on Facebook and Twitter. Slate’s already done a write-up. And as tweaks continue to hone their algorithm may we all someday benefit from a future ‘Sunrise Model’ soon?

  • Remnant

    Wide angle landscape photograph of still water and silhouette dock remains at sunset
    Remnant — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/125

    For some time now I’ve had my eye fixed upon a derelict patch of what I can only assume was once a functioning boat dock. Now this Dock Road quay long defunct presents a photographic opportunity; its still remains offering a henge of sorts for a silhouette sunset shot. The scene was aided by an astronomically low tide where all rows of wooden teeth were laid bare, enhanced still by the dead calm water. Just about all conditions were met to make this shot happen now. With that quick mental calculus I abandoned my more familiar spots and decided to ditch all my standard protocols. Instead of the tripod I went handheld. Instead of HDR I went single brackets. Instead of low I went lower than low. I shall explain—

    Considering the near cloudless sky pumping in direct sunlight the contrast between the light and dark areas of the photograph would already be extreme—a desired backdrop for making a silhouette exposure. My standard protocol would have me make upward of seven brackets such that color, light, and detail of the overexposed brackets would fill in the otherwise blackened fore and middle ground during HDR post-processing. Because of this I would of course have to use a tripod to ensure perfect stillness throughout the brackets—note it’s generally good practice to shoot your landscapes on a tripod regardless of your number of brackets. But today day I needed to ditch my tripod altogether as I wanted to get lower than low. About two inches off the ground low. Shooting blind I go about this by feel, balancing my hands trying to keep the camera as level to the flat ground as possible such that the horizon will at least be mostly straight (whatever little corrections for getting fully level can also be handled in post processing, but you still want to get as level as possible so as not to crop out desired compositional elements in your photograph).

    I’d be lying if I claimed to be 100% satisfied with this attempt, but it’s certainly a good starting point. A photograph to build on. Probably one of the most rewarding aspects of photography is that you don’t have to get it right the first time. Like anything else repetition, patience, and consistent effort over time afford the opportunities to capitalize on the shots we want to make. For this reason I’ve been kicking around the idea of putting together a personal photography bucket list of sorts. A place where I can get my thoughts down to bring focus on the future photographs I want to make, and maybe even some of the past ones I want to remake. It’ll never be a one and done, but it will at least be a real fine place to start.

    Oh, one more thing, I made another shot after this one down at the end of Dock Road near Antoinetta’s that I will share tomorrow. I love it if only for its calm and simplicity. Cheers until then.

  • Eye to the Sky

    Contrails line the sky over a reflective marsh tide pool at sunset
    Eye to the Sky — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    In light of this afternoon’s smoldering sunset (and here’s a really great shot of all its fiery glory) this post seems anticlimactic at best and inappropriately titled at worst—what kind of eye to the sky worth its salt would miss out on first rate glow and a rainbow to boot? But that’s just what happened today and that’s just how it goes sometimes. The sliver lining? For once I’m not too bent out of shape. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves and call this progress or maturity; on the contrary it’s solace in knowing the fat, wet raindrops intermittently falling would not have kept my lens dry. So even if I was out there, shooting would have probably led to more frustration.

    Rewinding back to yesterday I was finally able to get back on the marsh, camera in hand. It had been over two weeks since I last partook of the photography, and as soon as I cleared the woods on the east end of Dock Road the marsh opened up and the whole world seemed a little brighter, problems a little lighter. Golden light sprawled out upon the marsh touching all corners in its reach. Even in the marsh’s browning death throes spirited light did all it could to trick the eyes that winter in fact was not coming. This sight coupled with a morning spent with a big group of spirited volunteers was almost enough to warm even the most frozen of souls. Yes, mine included.

    On site and out of the car my thoughts shifted to the contrails lining the sky. Immediately my cynical mind vacillated between gentle amusement and mild disappointment, as I knew this is the type of sky that makes the chemtrail crowd cry foul. Meanwhile all I’m trying to do is make a good shot. Find a good composition, make the frames, and call it a day. Here we can use the contrails to create strong leading lines in the photograph. Very simply the lines tell the eye where to look, operating as giant pointers for the viewer. And speaking of eyes, doesn’t that marsh tide pool look similar to our sight organ? It’s got a pupil and everything. Looking upward. The eye to the sky.

  • Set Among Them

    Wide angle landscape photograph of phragmites and salt marsh at sunset
    Set Among Them — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/20

    Yesterday I posted what you could call the natural partner to today’s photograph—with all the same ingredients—a handheld shot of phragmites just after sunset. While the clouds front and center in yesterday’s offering were impressive, I think I prefer today’s rendition from an overall shot of the day standpoint. In case anyone is totally confused, today is Sunday and both photographs I’ve mentioned here were made on Friday afternoon, 6 November. More often than not I like to go with one posted photograph per session, but sometimes you come away with a few keepers to share.

    If I had to express what it is I like most about this photograph it would tie back to color, perspective, and movement. I’d also add a elevated sense of preference creeps in because of its departure from my standard workflow, as I discussed yesterday. Here again was another handheld shot, but also from a perspective I don’t regularly utilize. I was up close and personal with the phragmites, sitting among them with my lens no more than 3 feet from the ground and no more than a foot behind the plants at an angle of roughly 15 degrees above the horizon (I’m spitballing here). This coupled with a lazy enough shutter of 1/20 of a second and just enough wind able to create the areas of motion blur you see among the stalks, adding to the sense of place. Close your eyes and you just may hear the breeze.

  • The Other Side of Things

    Wide angle landscape photograph of pastel clouds over phragmites and marsh at sunset
    The Other Side of Things — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/30

    I went old school yesterday—making single bracket handheld exposures along Dock Road just around sunset. Gasp! I took a step back from the usual Tripod Only, Brackets Only, Sunset Only wide angle workflow to which I fall prey. Creature of habit and all. But sometimes you have got to break away.

    Yesterday afternoon offered the chance. Sunset was shaping up to be so-so at best.  So tasked with figuring out how best to salvage to shoot, I took a gander behind me to the northeast exposure and noted some detailed cloud shapes behind me. Photogenic clouds, even. Thinking these may color up when the sun slipped down, I disconnected camera body from tripod and walked across the street. And from there, directly opposite to my initial position, it went. A few purposeful exposures working in the invasive—albeit visually pleasing in the right light—phragmites as a foreground element. The shutter was lazy enough at 1/30 a second to produce a hint of movement in the pesky plants. I’ve got another shot from last night that I will post next that maximizes the movement and lines of the much maligned phragmites.

    The lesson? Always keep your head on a swivel. No need to jump right into the act of shooting. Take the time to scan your environment, observing the landscape from different angles. Break the mode and let go of the status quo.

  • 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.