End of Summer
Just a ten-minute walk from home, this small cascade does not even earn a name by Yosemite standards. It is just called "that cascade up the creek" by locals. In spring, it roars down the boulders, a 60-foot tumble that soaks you in mist within seconds. Now, as the seasons shift, it flows softly, quietly threading its way down the ravine. I call this photograph ‘End of Summer’—a gentle metaphor for the darker days to come.
End of Summer
Just a ten-minute walk from home, this small cascade does not even earn a name by Yosemite standards. It is just called "that cascade up the creek" by locals. In spring, it roars down the boulders, a 60-foot tumble that soaks you in mist within seconds. Now, as the seasons shift, it flows softly, quietly threading its way down the ravine. I call this photograph ‘End of Summer’—a gentle metaphor for the darker days to come.