At Moore’s Cove the water doesn’t so much fall as it threads—slipping over dark stone in narrow veils and soft rivulets. The forest was wet and quiet, and the rock face shone with moss and a scatter of early autumn leaves. I set up close, letting the cascade fill the frame, and used a longer exposure to turn the moving water into a calm, continuous gesture. Standing there, listening to the steady hush, felt like a reset: the world reduced to texture, gravity, and time. I made this photograph less to “capture a waterfall” than to hold onto that brief, centered stillness.
