The Quiet Roar of Wildness

That afternoon I set out to find rushing water in the streams draining Katahdin’s foothills.  I was not disappointed. After heavy rain, I found a small waterfall tangled with wet logs and soft light, and I lay nearly flat to photograph it, shooting beneath low branches. For a while I simply listened—water roaring, watching light through thinning clouds, alone yet embraced by the forest. Thoreau came to mind: In wilderness is the preservation of the world.