Confessions of Multnoma Falls

So. A confession, if you will. I have a secret that I probably should tell you. 

I'm not a huge fan of Landscapes [and] I think waterfall pictures are sorta cliche.

There. I said it. I got it out. 

To me, a waterfall picture is just another picture of a waterfall. Sorta the "seen it once, seen it all" idea. 

So, its funny that I spent most of the day last Sunday afternoon with my friend Elizabeth Knopp, driving to, climbing up and photographing a waterfall, right?  Its okay, you can agree. Its funny.

But here is the thing. 

A waterfall is different in person. 

No, really. It is. Nature has a way of, once you take the time to take the time to be out there in it, making you remember things. 

So, I took a cliche picture of a waterfall. 

But It wasn't the waterfall itself that made me want to take a 'cliche picture of a waterfall.'

It was the effects of it. The impact it made on me. 

 It was the bigness of it that made me remember my smallness.

The consistency of it that made me remember my undevoted heart.

The strength that made me remember my fragility.

The cool mist that landed, sparkling on my sun warmed body that made me want to remember it. 

That is, after all why we take pictures right? To remember the things important to us? The times in life when we felt  satisfied and in awe, mysteriously in awe? 

Yes. That is why I take pictures. And I liked that waterfall and the way it made me feel in awe. The way that hiking to to the top flooded my human veins with accomplishment (or maybe it was just the fresh air) whatever it was. I liked it. And I took pictures. 

The End.

Took a path to the top of a mountain.