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Guy Washburn
The camera is both the license and instrument of my exploration of worlds natural and internal.
It starts with that sound. At first, you can barely make it out, is that the wind? But as you get closer the subtle music becomes clear. The air is cooler. The moisture envelops. What only a few months ago chilled you to the bones, now feels delicious after the exertion. As the light starts to come up and bounce down the walls of the chasm, the contrast of white water and granite starts to emerge from the darkness.
While the mountains in Massachusetts lack the size required to produce waterfalls of the impressive scale of our neighbouring states to the north and west, I am entranced by the more modest intimacy of the falls of my home state. Each has a certain unique quality that makes it special.
