Greg Molyneux Photography

Tag: sunset

Sunset photography

  • The Call Back

    The Call Back

    35mm out of focus photo of Cedar Run Dock Road salt marsh made with motion blur by panning the camera left to right.
    The Call Back — 35mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/6 sec

    For the first time in at least three years my urge to make more photographs—better photographs—is waxing. The call back to capture the beauty of our backyard grows louder with each passing day. My interest in this craft waned to its nadir this past spring, and I legit thought myself ready to hang ’em up. Hell, I thought giving up my gear to more appreciative hands may be the best way to move on. Instead I held on and secretly hoped for inspiration in some lesser explored corner in my mind.

    Inspiration came, though not as altruistic as I would hope. Instead ego took the wheel; nothing like some wounded pride to get you back in the driver’s seat. Perhaps there is some ten year irony at work? Seeing it was something other than moral rectitude which first motivated my pursuit of this hobby a decade ago. Whatever the merits of the impetus the call back has me wanting more.

    Considering the importance of growth and evolution I want to study further the execution of intentionally blurred photographs. Breaking down color and shape into more flowing forms. Using minimalist aspects to represent the glorious nature of our home turf. I have sprinkled motion blur shots like this into my landscape rotation over the years—now is the time to explore further this passion.

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  • The Worn One

    The Worn One

    35mm low key photograph of a tall and withering purple coneflower silhouetted and brooding at sunset.
    The Worn One — 35mm | f/1.4 | ISO 400 | EXP 1/160

    July light fades a pink kiss goodbye. The worn one knows well not to believe the false promises softened in its pastel glow. Sirens of lies singing us onto the rocks of the forever young. Stay here forever and there will be no pain or woe. Life as it is with light moves on indifferent to any one plight or pleasure. For the Universal Powers have big work to do and none of it includes waiting on you.

    We stand afield planted, seeded and watered to grow only to wear and wither in but an eye blink of Big Time. In our winking we open ourselves to the beauty of worlds both big and small. People, places, and things to make us whole and worth it. This warmth buzzes about in orbit to pollinate our lives with richness and love.

    Then comes the crisis. The light fades stealing with it the freedom and innocence. It moves on unburdened as the oily peddler selling death in a bottle. Rooted the worn one wanes alone, naked and afraid.

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  • All I See

    All I See

    14mm wide angle sunset photo made in winter over the dormant Cedar Run Dock Road salt marsh.
    All I See — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    All I see is the flat horizon. A flattened span of unfettered possibility. An openness to explore. It is within this expanse infinite paths lie hidden underfoot, below our gaze and in our hearts. How do we find them? Where do we first look? Sure footed confidence will keep us steady and stable atop firm ground, the knowing. While the wayward step finds us mired in muck, faltered and bound, the unknowing. Here we get up, set our eyes upon fired horizons and fan the flame of becoming within. We step up. We step out. The infinite becomes finite and the finite becomes one; and this is all I see.

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  • The Grind

    The Grind

    14mm square format photo depicts a fiery sunset over the lake framed between the contrasted silhouettes of two small pine trees.
    The Grind — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 400 | EXP 1/13

    Tectonic forces do their work. Ploughing their inescapable hell slowly and without discrimination. They grind—hard. Such is their subtlety as to be motionless to the eye though with a power as immutable as gravity. It goes to work on you at all times. The all seeing eye. Without cease or respite it weighs heavy its jagged white-hot indiscriminate hand, wearing body and mind down to dust. It pulverizes all identity and form until it spits you out as something unrecognizable, something—else. Were you crushed and cast out or transformed and made whole in the friction?

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  • Let’s Go

    Let’s Go

    14mm wide angle photograph of a fiery sunset burning intense reds, yellows, and orange across the whole of the sky. All reflected by the calm mirror reflection of the Stafford Forge lake.
    Let’s Go — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    Two Zero Two One, let’s go. You’ve a very low bar to surpass your predecessor’s legacy of pandemics and problems. We’re counting on you for life and health this year.

    Last year I was well into April before I shared my first photo on this website. A lapse I hope not to soon repeat. This evening’s banger of a sunset made for a smoldering debut and guaranteed such a slump would not happen this year. It was pure fire over the mirror still waters of Stafford Forge’s front lake. Absolute time well spent; 10 out of 10, would do it again. Skies Like This, let’s go.

    What have I been doing lately? Let’s go:

    • Watching: Bridgerton was a fun time; cool spin on a not so rigid period piece. Finished my second Star Wars Rebels rewatch last night. At its best the show is absolute peak Star Wars. It’s an animated series but do not let that fool you—it’s deep and worthwhile with characters you care about. World War II in Colour because my interests are all over the place.
    • Reading (audible-ing?): I finished Neil Gaiman’s Neverwhere on my walk today. Having read Good Omens, American Gods, Norse Mythology, and The Sandman before it, I must say Neil sits atop my favorite authors list at this point.
    • Playing: Hades. This rougelite is an outright masterpiece. Easily the best thing I’ve played last year, and that’s saying a lot considering Ori and the Will of the Wisps was phenomenal. I’m over 70 hours into Hades and have made it out of hell 11 times. I cannot get enough. Play Hades!
    • Listening: the Who is getting an absolute workout right now, and I am properly wearing out Quadrophenia front to back, over and over sans jacket cut slim and checked. In fact I am listening as I edited this photograph and wrote this post.

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  • The Gift of Winter

    The Gift of Winter

    14mm wide angle winter sunset photograph reflected over the derelict of Rand's Marina along Great Bay Boulevard Wildlife Management Area. A powerful December sunset smolders with flaming clouds cast in deep orange and red colors making first rate winter sunset intensity.
    The Gift of Winter — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    No two sunsets are the same. This we know to be true. Return to the same place over and over again and you’ll be chasing unicorns to hunt down a pure facsimile. It’s best to take each unique moment and capture its joyful light as best you can, while you can. It’s a welcome lesson in the natural function of impermanence. This doppelgänger is impossible to find.

    Tonight, however, I came close. In what I can only describe as the spiritual successor to Ruinous Splendor—changed only by time. Made just over five years apart at near the same exact track of bulkhead I give you the best sunset photograph I have made in five years. Recognizing the subjectivity of such claims I defer gracefully if you disagree in preference to another sunset photograph I have made. These decisions belong to us.

    Winter sunsets, man. In particular winter sunsets heralding oncoming winter weather near always produce. While tomorrow looks to be a nuisance event with rain in southern Ocean County, winter weather will hit New Jersey tomorrow in the form of a weak coastal low. This, of course, is merely an appetizer for a far larger and more powerful system poised to wreak havoc on the entire region Wednesday into Thursday. Jackpot zones will be measuring in feet. Buried cars, bread and milk in short supply. Still over 72 hours out, where the rain/snow line and axis of heaviest precipitation set up remains up in the air. Stay close to Weather NJ’s Facebook page to keep up with the latest. You can bet I’ll be back out shooting Tuesday to see the big storm’s harbinger sunset.

    Shout out to the universe today for giving me exactly what I asked for. This morning, while thinking about my photographs this year, I envisioned how great it would be to have at least one more clear cut entry into my annual best of series for 2020. My output has been solid enough this year, though real standouts have been lacking. Well, my Christmas gift came early. Thank you.

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  • From Solitude

    From Solitude

    14mm wide angle winter sunset photograph made at the Cedar Run Dock Road salt marsh. A gossamer of pastel clouds stretch across the sky, reflecting upon the still surface of the water. A window of brown marsh grass invites the viewer into the scene.
    From Solitude — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/8

    His is the path of solitude. It is a journey not idly traveled, with headwinds, endless thought, and self-critique his only companions. Like a looking glass life reflects back upon him, projecting moments of joy and pain, sunshine and rain, triumph and abject failure. Each and every one a lesson. Through it all he has himself to turn inward. To his fortress mind and hideaway heart, twin suns lighting an island of isolation impregnable to all and impossible to reach. This is a refuge of necessity, a way station of isolation constructed piece by piece through decades of disconnectedness. Except there are no train lines connecting it. It is both inaccessible to find and impossible to leave. It is from solitude to which all his comings and goings take place.

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  • The Winter Look

    The Winter Look

    14mm wide angle HDR sunset photo of a winter sky glowing with deep pastel colored clouds reflected above Cedar Run Dock Road salt marsh.
    The Winter Look — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    Tonight burned. Fast and white hot she torched across the whole of the sky. Racing Apollo to his chariot home above the clouds. Phoebus, she calls in pastel tones heard in angelic beauty, our pantheon awaits. A show of pure passion, glowing heat, and lithe quickness. A holy ember blazing light white hot enough to stop time itself, and humble enough to give it all back. Restraint wrapped around the power, a subtle mastery masked only in its wisdom.

    Tonight’s sunset above the salt marsh held the classic winter look. Brooding and intense cloud striations colored in deep, fiery pastels. The cold fans the flames. The furnace burns brighter, truer. The cold clean air of winter sets a crystalline stage producing light shows in nature’s peculiar brand of high definition. Buy this you will never at a big box store. There’s really nothing like it and no Amazon box to ship it in if there were. A unique species unto her own. She’s the afternoon sky fall cloaked in the rainbowed robes of winter. Breathless you watch her leave, eyes transfixed as though you’re only seeing her singular beauty for the first ever time.

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  • Intersections

    Intersections

    14mm wide angle sunset photo reflected over the lake at Stafford Forge Wildlife Management Area. Pastel colored clouds form an X shape pattern water reflected in symmetry as sunset gives way to blue hour.
    Intersections — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    Seated at The Union Market stuck on what to write. I’ve got nothing. An intersection? A four way stop with no signs. The anarchy of an unkempt mind. It’s an odd sort of drift. The shimmering grains of control left to sift right through arthritic fingers. More sand down the hourglass of time. An amortized loss no prospector’s pan can withhold. The Ring, man. It will vanish.

    Still this is the big mystery, ain’t it? The exalted drama we each one of us play out with this spot of time we’ve got. Each of us observers in our own unplanned play running on as one big dress rehearsal to life. Except there are no second chances—only better doings. The sand grains, man. They’re ours—though only for a moment—borrowed. Walk upon them where you can. Dance, sing. Bury your feet and run your fingers through past, present, and future. As it comes. As it goes. Ours for a while. Build the brightest castle you can; however you can and while you can. Because the sand belongs to time. It hears its master’s call.

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