Greg Molyneux Photography

Tag: sunset

Sunset photography

  • These are the times that revive men’s souls

    Intense pastels color the undulating clouds in this spectacular HDR sunset photograph over a frozen Barnegat Bay.
    These are the times that revive men’s souls — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    Or maybe it’s just the polar infused westerlies smacking me in the face doing the reviving?

    It was cold tonight. Anyone stuck in the Mid-Atlantic to Northeast knows this—and has for sometime if you discount yesterday’s false spring. But when it produces this kind of light the biting cold can just keep on riding that polar express right over my head (and in the face).

    Come 4 p.m. a fairly unusual cloud pattern began setting up across the sky, funneling a unique set of undulating clouds from the southwest horizon. Earnestly marching from a single point of origin, a quick visual scan showed just how this active air was roiling and distorting the clouds with the polar jet’s turbulence rendering a captivating visual result. It was clear in an instant this cloudage coupled with the reinforcing shot of arctic air was cooking up a recipe of near guaranteed sunset success. And when that happens, it doesn’t matter how cold it is—the blood starts pumping, the pulse starts to quicken and the time dilation exacerbates as the excitement of a total payoff washes over you.

    Nights like tonight are precisely why I do this.

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  • Standing with the Treetops

    HDR sunset photograph of the New Jersey Pinelands' Pygmy Pine Plains taken from the Top of the World
    Standing with the Treetops — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    Yesterday I waxed poetic about this great new spot locals call Top of the World. New is of course in the relative sense insofar as it is new to me. This is the second in what will most likely amount to three fully produced photographs from this nascent shoot from this clandestine (not really) Pinelands’ locale. It’s tough enough to come home with one satisfying photo so it’s always a happy dance bonus when that number turns crooked.

    As more of a technician than an artist this selected sunset is by no means perfect. And I’m OK with that. I’ve got an undesirable lens flare on the right edge to the center; my tripod was positioned a little too close to the pygmy pitch pines in the foreground, yielding unnecessary blur just outside my hyperfocal distance; and I’ve got real soft focus and some flare going on in the very bottom left corner. But somehow? It works for me. I purposefully placed my tripod dead smack in the middle of this micro pine canopy to help bring the viewer into the photograph. I wanted your face to by right where mine was—about six feet off the ground overlooking a gradual plain of the smallest fully-grown pine trees you’re never like to see. Through all that, the imperfections work for me. I’d like to say this was entirely premeditated, but other than looking at my bulbous lens glass and noting its closeness to the pines in the immediate foreground, did I notice much at all.

    Here’s an Instagram—gasp a selfie!—of me making this shot.

  • Waiting on the Weather

    During a break in the weather clouds part just before sunset coloring the clouds purple and pink in this HDR photograph of the marshes of Cedar Run Dock Road.
    Waiting on the Weather — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    Norlun Trough, I summon thee. And your arctic front. And its squall line.

    Bring all your snow, clouds blazing.

    A little before 4:00 p.m. Manahawkin was facing its first real snow shower of the day. The confluence of a clipper system from the north; an arctic front complete with a serious squall line to the west that will parlay to a coastal transfer, with all signs pointing to an inverted trough (that’s that Norlun thing) setting up somewhere over coastal New Jersey. As a weenietastic snow fan teased and tested by a tedious winter this leaves me twitching but cautiously optimistic.

    I figured as I was homebound waiting for snow all day, that chasing light and making photographs was not in the cards. We had been entrenched in a total cloud deck all day with little reason to think there’d be any kind of break. But sure enough 4:30 p.m. showed up and brought the sun with it. Pumped, I scrambled about the house cartoon style where your legs move for 5 seconds before you actually go anywhere. I packed my things, didn’t break anything and made for Dock Road.

    When I pulled up to my usual spot it was clear my standard sunset thing wasn’t going to play. To the southwest the clouds were returning so that kind of shot was a no go. Fortunately pink clouds were rolling on the northeast side. Here I crouched and made the winter marsh scene above.

    Oh, and Happy Valentine’s Day.

  • You have no power here

    An icy handrail makes for an interesting macro shot with the setting sun over the bay off in the distance left of a sharp focused icicle.
    You have no power here — 100mm | f/5.6 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/1250

    I’ve been spending much more time shooting on Long Beach Island of late. It’s the ice in particular that has brought me there. There’s just something to that juxtaposition of Winter’s grip imposing its will on Summer’s paradise.

    Yesterday brought me to Surf City, Harvey Cedars and Barnegat Light. And while I did most of my shooting with my cellphone, I did manage to train my macro lens on this icy railing staring straight into the setting sun. In my own head, the primary icicle reminds of my love of maps that began as wee lad. All I see is the penninsula of Cape May County, New Jersey jutting southward, driving Delaware Bay and the Atlantic Ocean apart.

    A tip of the old cap to Jon Carr for calling out the railing. Were it not for his instance I most certainly would not have bothered. You can see his interpretation here.

  • Lamentations Fall Before the Light

    A stunning HDR photograph glistening with pink pastels dancing off the icy stillness of Barnegat Bay as seen from Harvey Cedars Sunset Point.
    Lamentations Fall Before the Light — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    And to think that for even a second I considered not going out to shoot on account of ominous clouds rolling in from the southwest.

    I’d like to think I take some solid landscape photographs—with sunsets obviously being my thing. But for all my merit, I still don’t think I captured the righteousness of this evening’s sunset. Proof I still have much to learn before I ever think I’ve mastered this craft. The glow that set fire to the sky quickened my heart and delighted my senses. Leaving me wearing little more than a child’s uncontainable grin. If not the best, this easily finds a space comfortably in my personal top five. This is the kind of unspoken light that fuels the soul.

    There were plenty other revelers taking in Nature’s work at Harvey Cedars Sunset Park this evening. Though I fear many folks bounced too early, missing the awe that came before us. As I was running around the park, trying to find my desired angle, I could feel something special unfolding. A pink glow was creeping from the horizon and over the next several minutes the color drove eastward, igniting overhead. Viewfinder ablaze, I quickly texted my buddy—also shooting at the park—remarking just how lucky we were. In there interest of full disclosure there may or may not been a few enthusiastic expletives tossed in for good measure.

    All I know is that I am fired up. Thank you Mother Nature for being as unpredictable as you are great.

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  • Great Expectations

    After Winter Storm Juno skirted the Jersey shore sparing New Jersey from historic snow, the clouds break revealing a sublime winter sunset on the frozen marsh along Cedar Run Dock Road in this HDR photograph.
    Great Expectations — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    I am a snow lover.

    It is a tough day for snow lovers.

    When words like HECS start getting tossed around, and all area mets—up to and including the National Weather Service—go all in on what seems to be a sure fire Miller B transfer event, snow fiends like myself start going into overdrive. Visions of 2–3 inch an hour snow rates, powdery drifts and canyon banks lining neighborhood streets dance in our head. If you love weather—intense weather—few things get the blood pumping quite like Mother Nature standing at the doorstep.

    And yet weather is going to weather. As inevitable as this storm once seemed, a late capture by an upper level low allowed this beast of a coastal to slip just far enough east to spare New Jersey from real substantial impact. In its wake? A running spectrum of emotion across the residents of New Jersey, and many disappointed forecasters taking a beating in the court of public opinion. Predicting the weather is hard—very hard, and these folks are doing the best they can trying to predetermine outcomes in absence of a full dataset and in the presence of variability. By its very nature it is a thankless task, and I hope they just keep doing what they’re doing and continue to roll in favor of calling the next sure thing—even if it might not be.

    In the meantime, I’m going to keep waiting patiently for my first chance to finally photograph a big snow storm. Oh, and how about that sunset tonight? Check out how just how deep the color was in this straight out of camera, cellphone shot I uploaded to Instagram sans filter.

  • A quiet place of reflection

    An HDR sunset photograph taken from the aluminum dock overlooking Bass River in New Gretna, New Jersey. With the metal dock marking the foreground, a rich pastel glow colors the sky and water on this near cloudless evening.
    A quiet place of reflection — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    For tonight’s sunset I ventured down to Ben Wurst’s stomping grounds in New Gretna, New Jersey. I haven’t been to this spot since 2012—back when I really had no clue what I was doing—and wanted to get back to take advantage of the deep Winter sun’s still southward position. Come Summer said sun will be well out of my frame to the west (right) of its current location.

    As for the spot itself, it sits tucked away just off Exit 50 on the northbound side of the Garden State Parkway overlooking Bass River. As you can see there’s a raised metal walkway—aluminum I’m guessing—that extends roughly 80 yards over the marsh and into the river itself. It’s one of those little known spots that hides in plain sight; and when it’s not serving as a spot for sunset revelers or those seeking quiet reflection, it represents one hell of a destination to watch lightning march across the marsh. Though don’t try this at home as I am told lightning and metal don’t mix. Hopefully my not-yet-charred remains won’t someday represent something of a cautionary tale…

    As for my thoughts on the photograph itself? This is one of my favorite day-glow sunsets yet. Sure there wasn’t great cloud action tonight, but I was really impressed with the rich pastels coming to life in the glow of atmospheric ice crystals. Sometimes Winter, you’re pretty all right.

  • A frozen bay belies the weather

    An HDR sunset photograph taken from Harvey Cedars Sunset Part of a fully frozen Barnegat Bay. Unique ice patterns and strewn jetty rock mark the picture's foreground.
    A frozen bay belies the weather — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    We’re wrapping up what’s easily been the coldest stretch of weather we’ve felt over the 2014–2015 Winter—and the New Jersey Intracoastal Waterway has the frozen bays to prove it. Knowing the temperatures would be moderating as soon as tomorrow (can you believe it’s going to rain after this bitter cold week!?), I wanted to get over to Harvey Cedars Sunset Park to capture the not-so-common sight of an ice entombed Barnegat Bay. While the sunset color didn’t explode this afternoon, the sights I was treated to out on the point made enduring an hour of uninterrupted cold completely worth it. My mood soared immediately upon arrival; my body and mind both were in need of this photographic ice world therapy session.

    For much of my time at this ephemeral Fortress of Solitude I was transfixed by the undulating, serpentine patterns of ice locked motionless from the freeze. I’m amazed at the transformation ice can bring to a summertime haven of warmth and water that I know so well. It’s nature’s way of teaching the duality of life—as well as its impermanence. And yet all I can think of is Yogi Berra opining, “you can observe a lot by watching.”

    Enjoy the scene now as it will be gone tomorrow.

  • Get thee to the beach

    Get thee to the beach

    An HDR photograph taken on the beaches of Holgate, NJ just after a late winter sunset. Featuring a soft pastel sky with algae laden jetty rock marking the sandy foreground.
    Get thee to the beach — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    Pardon the directive—this title is mostly intended as a self-serving reminder to get my butt to the beach more often. But if you can make it, well then you should too! Living mere miles away I’ll readily admit I don’t capitalize on the natural splendor looming just to the east nearly enough. It’s hard to pinpoint the hangup/excuse but with views like the one above I clearly need to get there more often. Camera in hand since I’m an embarrassment on a surfboard.

    This past Saturday I ventured all the way down to Long Beach Island’s southern-most point—Holgate, NJ. There I met up with friends and what seemed like 5 or 6 dozen other revelers to take in the wonderful weather, low tide, and stellar sunset that Mother Nature was promising. Initially concerned I’d have my shot impacted by the sizable winter crowd, I staked my claim to the jetty rocks you see above. I didn’t venture far from my spot for the next 50 minutes or so worried I’d lose it and my precious foreground. And other than a temporary scare of 2 exuberant young photographers running around trying to capture seagull shots, my viewfinder went unimpeded. Fist bump.

    Unrelated: it’s New Year’s Eve—I hope everyone has a great night and an even better 2015. Cheers and thanks for being a part of the first year of my website!