The canyon is quiet this time of year. Most anglers have turned their attention elsewhere as winter rolls in. There are still fish to fool, but only the dedicated wade these waters now. It's cold, wet and too far from home and hearth. Other rivers call and it will be months before their siren song releases them to return.
Now the wild things take over and come down from their perches high on the canyon wall. The warmth and water of the river draw them to feed undisturbed in the shadows of the canyon. My fascination with these creatures brings me here to photograph and simply watch them dance on the basalt stage. The stillness only broken by the sound of tumbling rock and clicking hooves.
These days are far too short and the light fades early here in the shadows. The camera cannot capture all that I see. My eyes are left to record the last images of the day and hold them until I can return.
Now the wild things take over and come down from their perches high on the canyon wall. The warmth and water of the river draw them to feed undisturbed in the shadows of the canyon. My fascination with these creatures brings me here to photograph and simply watch them dance on the basalt stage. The stillness only broken by the sound of tumbling rock and clicking hooves.
These days are far too short and the light fades early here in the shadows. The camera cannot capture all that I see. My eyes are left to record the last images of the day and hold them until I can return.
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