Silver Falls State Park is located about 20 miles outside of Salem, Oregon and hosts several falls along the 7.2-mile Trail of Ten Falls. It’s a primordial place, shrouded in mist much of the time, still and quiet save for the whisperings of breezes in trees and the roar of falls when the trail weaves its way near one. South Falls is the park’s most iconic fall at 177 feet, and the nearest to the parking area. The hiking trail winds along the cliffside behind the fall and above the dark pool below. Although I always disliked any signs of humans or human activity in my nature photography, in this case the trail (and at least one person visible on it) serves to provide a sense of scale.
My first visit to Silver Falls State Park in early October 1995 yielded this image (among a few others). The size of the fall was impressive; navigating the trail behind the fall was thrilling (and a little damp) and offered a unique perspective. Oregon has more than 238 waterfalls (and more than 1,000, according to the Northwest Waterfalls Survey), and every one I visited during my all-too-brief time in Oregon was fascinating, from the specatcular fairytale setting of Multnomah Falls along I-84 on the Columbia River Gorge to the little six-foot cascasde I photogrraphed on this very trail shortly after making the above image of South Falls (see below).
These two images were made just before the rainy season began, when the foliage was still predominantly green and skies were blue. Once the rain comes in Oregon’s autumn, it becomes a fixture throughout the fall, winter and spring. A comparison shot of South Falls below shows the same fall from an almost identical perspective on January 1, 1996 after a heavy rain.
My time in Oregon was far too short. I came back to Utah in January 1996, always planning on returning to Oregon, dreaming of further explorations and adventures in what I consider the most beautiful state I’ve ever visited. Alas, not all dreams come true, and I’ve never made it back to Oregon. I miss the ocean, the mountains, the forests and the waterfalls. I’m landlocked now, here in southwest Colorado, no longer able to drive due medical issues with my legs, and can no longer explore nature with my camera. It’s a sore loss, indeed, but at least I have my old images to serve as reminders of the joy I experienced back then when I could roam the mountains and deserts and forests and coastlines and commune with nature. (Canon gear, Fuji Velvia ISO 50)
Silent Pariah 