Are you sick of Waterfalls...?

...'Cause I'm not. Having lived in Deserts for most of my adult life, waterfalls are a fresh view that I won't soon tire of. I visited Yosemite as a kid, and falls there were impressive. Taiwan held the largest I have ever seen. Now that I live in this wonderfully lush land, I'm really enjoying discovering all kinds of waterfalls and the challenge of photographing them.

These happen to be on Mill Creek right outside the town of Prospect on the Crater Lake Highway. I've shot these before, but never shared that image online; it's my masterpiece to date, and I'm really proud of it. I may be a little scared that if I throw it out here it will under appreciated. "I'm just not sure I can take that kind of rejection."

Nikon D800, 14-24mm f/2.8 lens @16mm, f/8, 9 frame HDR, ISO 100, Nik/Google HDR Efex Pro2.

Creating this image was tricky. Last time I photographed it, I stood on the top of the cliff opposite right in the center of the frame. That was at the end of a road, and a pretty simple approach. This time I walked down a trail to access the creek, but it put me too low. See, the river falls about 100 feet in a very shoot distance right here, and it took me a long time scrambling over basalt boulders polished to glass by the stream and scaling the biggest manzanita trees I've ever seen to find a spot where I could photograph the tumble of water and the bridge without driftwood sticking straight up into the image or a boulder obstructing the view. This with my tripod and shoulder bag and my dress clothes on. Pretty fun, I must say. 

I tried hard to remember the scene as I experienced it. I don't want to visit these places and only make pictures. I want to be there, be present while I'm there, and then share an image with you that helps bring you into that instant as well. 

I used High Dynamic Range technics to create this one so that I could have both blue sky and bright sun on the bridge as well as running toffee water and detail in the shadows. HDR lets me show you the whole scene as I saw it. Less the raucous roar of the tumble, like a passing train and an airplane and a hurricane five feet away.