Greg Molyneux Photography

Tag: thunderstorms

  • Tumultuous Sky

    Tumultuous Sky

    Storm photograph of a sunset thunderstorm over Manahawkin Bay with lightning bolt.
    Tumultuous Sky — 35mm | f/5.6 | ISO 100 | EXP 25 sec

    Saturday, August 6, 2016, the unexpected came to pass. Mrs. and Mr. Weather NJ came by to scoop me for a little weekend dinner action on Long Beach Island. We brought along the camera equipment just in case the sunset would pop. We were cutting it close on time and originally decided that Cedar Run Dock Road would be our best photo destination considering the time crunch. Instead—and in true Jon Carr fashion—the turn for Route 9 South was completely missed and with it so too was Dock Road. Insert audible. With what appeared to be a cloud out at our back we made for Surf City Sunset Park. Crossing the new Manahawkin Bay Bridge my expectations were low.

    Upon arrival at the park the place was loaded with revelers and cellphone cameras. I always feel good when I see folks out taking in the sights and taking their shot at landscape photography. The more the merrier, I say. To the south a crescent moon could be seen, while to the west a mean shelf cloud was barreling eastward. We had known a line of storms was heading to the area, but honestly the radar was not all that impressive. Are you noticing a theme of underselling the evening yet? Eager to capture the shelfie, I took out the camera and swapped my 100mm lens for the ultra wide 14mm. It seemed like the prudent move except the humidity had a better idea. Instant fog problems—my lens was immediately coated in moisture. That quickly put the kibosh on my shooting—or so I thought.

    As the clocked ticked away the initial line of thunderstorms moved through. Aside from a solid gust front and some dramatic clouds, it didn’t produce any lightning or rainfall at our location. Just a few bolts of lightning to the north. A few minutes later things started to get interesting. About 30 miles to our west, over Hammonton, New Jersey, a storm cell began to redevelop. Radar proof need not apply as its growth was betrayed by a towering cumulonimbus cloud growing before our eyes. Like something off the set of Ghostbusters this monolith of water vapor and energy grew larger and closer. Its cloud tops reaching high enough to begin sheering off into an anvil. It was awesome. The gust front, it seems, provided just enough of a trigger to ignite the latent storm growth. As a shooter this presented the perfect opportunity: an isolated cell from the perfect vantage point with no rain to mess up the shot. Also, by now enough time had passed to free my lenses from their foggy prison. I was back in the game.

    From there on it was all about finding the optimal frame to capture the Manahawkin Bay Bridge; the impressive cumulonimbus tower; and the pastel glow that reignited at dusk thanks to the angle afford by the high cloud tops. It was the perfect storm—from no expectations came the best storm setup I have encountered to date. From there on out I put my 35mm lens to work, making long exposure after long exposure, hoping to time up a shot just right with a lightning strike. Fortunately I got some cloud to ground action mixed in with a truly dramatic sky. I couldn’t be happier with how things panned out. I now have in my possession my best storm photograph to date.

    Oh, and as for food—an LBI dinner never happened. That, too, was an audible to Element on account of large crowds. Sometimes you just have to go with the flow.

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  • They Came From Behind

    They Came From Behind

    Photograph capture of fierce clouds and thunderstorms approaching Antoinetta's restaurant from the west.
    They Came From Behind — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | EXP 2.5 sec

    Gold Five to Red leader, lost Tiree, lost Dutch.
    I copy, Gold Leader.
    They came from… behind!

    Now that the titular Star Wars reference is out of the way, I’d like to throw it back to last Monday, July 25, 2016, when some serious thunderstorms had us dead to rights in southern Ocean County. After making my first capture on the western most end of  Cedar Run Dock Road (where the marsh opens up from the woods), Jon and I made our way to the east most point of the marsh. Posted up at the boat ramp, we aimed our lenses westward toward Antoinetta’s restaurant and dug in to watch the rapidly approaching storms. Meanwhile in my head a story was set in motion: eager diners going about the machinations of a pleasant dining experience full of fine meals and good conversation before some astute weather observer inside took a westward glance out the many windows to notice the beast barreling in from the west. At which point all attention would divert from the chicken parmesan and risotto to impending doom. One customer would lament a power outage while in the same breath some haughty sir insistent on keeping his head firmly entrenched in the sand would bombastically declare ‘there’s no way that’s going to hit us!’ It is, after all, your world and we’re just living in it.

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  • Weather Moves

    Weather Moves

    Wide angle photograph of severe weather clouds moving in over a salt marsh.
    Weather Moves — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/4

    Monday, July 25, 2016, saw severe thunderstorms batter much of the mid-Atlantic; the early morning hours featured the first round, a natural alarm clock potent in its own right, only to be outdone by the main event during the afternoon and evening hours. The widespread storm outbreak managed to hold together all the way to the New Jersey coast. The perfect storm of high CAPE values, substantial sheer, diurnal heating, and sky high dew points and temperatures fostered a caustic atmosphere for powerful storm development and continuation of the line for hundreds of miles.

    Out on Cedar Run Dock Road, Weather NJ’s JC and I did our best to document the essence of the storm. While I didn’t pull down any good lightning shots—they continue to elude me—I did manage to make a few photographs that convey the anger and intensity of the sky and the subsequent winds that came with it. Even in the shot above, which was made a good 15 minutes before the severe warned storm hit, you get a sense for the ferocious nature of the ever changing cloud deck. Converging air masses were seemingly ripping the sky apart. The marsh betrays the wind intensity that would be otherwise invisible to a photograph. Even at a 1/4 second shutter speed, you can clearly see the foreground marsh grass folding like a tent. At this point I would guess winds were in the 30 MPH range. (With peak storm nearly doubling that speed.)

    On a personal level the pressure of the moment becomes a lot to deal with. You know you’re under the gun. You know strong winds and high voltage is fast approaching. You know wind driven rain will soon be upon you rendering a camera effectively useless thanks to soaked lenses. Rolling thunder in the distance coupled with lightning strikes on the horizon gets the heart rate up, and it’s a real struggle against nature and your best instinct to remain calm and patient enough to make good shots. It’s a far cry from the relaxed pace of a predictable, slow moving sunset that’s for sure. Of course, it’s this adrenaline surge that’s a big part of the fun.

    In the meantime I have one or two other photos to post from Monday, and JC went live on the Weather NJ Facebook page and produced the following video (approximately 36,000 views at the time of this posting!) documenting deteriorating conditions peak storm. Check it out.

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  • South-facing

    South-facing

    Storm clouds roll in over southern New Jersey marshland
    South-facing — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/100

    Taken back in late June 2013, thunderstorms rolled across the coastal plain that flank Dock Road on its north and south side. The light play interacting with heavy rainfall underneath the granite etched clouds had my heart running with excitement. I knew I was coming home with something good.