Overnight, supposedly, the temperature bottomed out at 15 degrees Fahrenheit. With only a 20% chance of precipitation, the odds seemed good for a survivable trip up the Eagle Creek Trail. The only places that were icy were the places where water perpetually drips down and oozes out of the basalt layer cake that makes up the cliffs to Eagle Creek's canyon. Perversely, the only places that were icy were also the places that have the greatest exposure to heights. The water was running much higher than I've become accustomed to, no doubt because of all the recent rain, and the new broad banks made a view of the falls from the lower viewpoint problematical. The water runs ice cold, even in the summer, and the last time I tried to wade out for a shot of the now hidden iconic-waterfall-scene, the nerve connection between foot and brain was numbed so quickly that I endangered the well being of my photo gear as I teetered crazily on senseless pegs,...
a photographer's take on ART, SCIENCE & THEOLOGY in the Pacific Northwest