Solitude of the Super Moon


It was the night of the super moon and photographers were out in droves.  As soon as I arrived at Robert Moses State Park, I could hear their autofocus beeps chirping in the parking lot.  Having researched the photo ephemeris, I knew exactly when and where the super moon would rise.  Still, like all things in nature, it's difficult to predict how a scenario will unfold.  I came prepared with a tripod, three graduated neutral density filters, a flash, and pocket wizards.  I also brought a wide angle lens, and a medium telephoto. 

As I walked along the winding boardwalk, a gentle breeze blew and the brown grass seemed eager to welcome spring's arrival.  Since the moon was scheduled to rise on the opposite side of the setting sun, I expected a soft, pastel colored sky.  There were still 45 minutes before showtime, so I continued along the beach and followed the paw prints of a dog.  I was in a quiet, contemplative mood and listened to the ocean. Sometimes I consider photography a solo endeavour as it allows me time to connect with the landscape and think about how I want to capture it.  I quickly found myself miles from where I started.  

Somewhere near the bluffs I found a piece of driftwood and took a seat. Peering out over the vast Atlantic Ocean, I noted the ideal conditions with mosty clear skies.  In my mind's eye I visualized the moon slowly making its way towards the horizon.  I wanted a simple photo that showed the power of the sea as commanded by the pull of the moon.  I thought about how the ocean mimics life.  One minute it's calm, the next you're being pulled under.  

At eight minutes and counting there was still no sign of the moon. I begin to grow anxious and pace around my tripod.  I had never seen a super moon before and wondered just how large and spectacular it would be.  I readied the gear.  Finally, at precisely 7:23 I saw the beginnings of the moon and couldn't believe it was orange/pink!  Within 3 minutes it was completely visible with a few interesting clouds stretching across its face. I took the image with my 70-200mm lens.  The camera settings really don't matter.  This was about connecting with something larger and relating it to my feelings within. I thank you for sharing the moment with me. 


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