A world of fragile things

Tuesday morning, my friend Scott and I went out on a photo excursion of the waterfalls around the Columbia Gorge.

I’ve explored the falls before, in the summer. In winter, they’re a very different place, almost alien in their beauty.

The path up the side of Multnomah Falls, entirely encased in ice. Getting out just this far was treacherous, as the walkway along the base of the falls was covered in a thick layer of very slippery ice. A sign warned against traveling any farther, on pain of a $300 fine and visit from the sheriff (who, I would hope, would have better things to do than to pay personal attention to tourists who climbed too far up the path). The sign didn’t say anything about ending up in a pool of one’s own blood at the base of a 200-foot cliff, which I think might have provided a greater disincentive to the overly ambitious.

In another few months, this will all be green again.

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