About a ten-minute walk from where I live, there is a humble, quiet waterfall that is easily overlooked. It’s part of a small river that slips through the region‘s forest without much fanfare. At five meters tall, the fall can’t be considered spectacular, but relative to the size of the river, it comes as quite a surprise to first-time visitors.
There aren’t many, though; the fall is well hidden, and the path to it requires some climbing through weeds and down a steep, almost invisible path. For years, it had been my summer refuge; the pool at its base shimmered like glass, deep enough for a swim and great refreshment on hot summer days. Additionally, it was perfectly framed for photographs that captured the entire cascade in its delicate descent.
But nature, as always, has its own plans. A few years ago, heavy storms brought down several trees from the forest above. They crashed into the pool, twisting its clear waters into a clutter of logs and debris. The graceful openness at the base of the fall vanished. Similarly, the clean lines that once made it photographically inviting have also disappeared. Before, I had never really taken a compelling picture of fit, thinking that „I would do that one of these days…“. After the storm, I returned with my camera many times, frustrated, trying to find a new angle that worked. None did – until I gave up on trying to capture the whole.
This shot is of a single section of the fall. I focused on where the water ribbons over the rock, where it curves and slips and catches the light in sudden silver flashes. The background is dark with moss and shadow, letting the water take centre stage. In this detail, I found something I had missed in the bigger picture: intimacy. This isn’t a grand waterfall; it’s a quiet one, and maybe it deserves to be seen up close, to be listened to like a whispered story. Turning it into monochrome underlines, I believe, the intimacy of the scene.
In that moment, behind the lens, I stopped mourning what was lost and began to appreciate what remains: movement, texture, light—still beautiful, just more quietly so.
