9/19/09 Seven minutes into a twenty minute exposure. Nelson Ledges.
Gunshots permeate the air, overpowering the gentle gurgle of the waterfall disappearing down the deep stone ledges to my left. To my right a cross tied with a bouquet of week old flowers tells the story of someone's love and someone else's last hour. Mankind's shadow is cast wide over this place. Graffiti is rampant. I am unable to fathom how anyone could take a can of spray paint to these primeval walls... young... troubled... I can find no reasonable explanation for such a perversion of beauty. This ancient place of stone may seem immune to time but certainly is no match for fools.
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