Somewhere up a mountain, within a small creek that grew with the passing of time, a pristine strand of water like billy-o makes it’s way through the frost-bound rocks that stay still and carry within them the whispers of birds and animals, the secrets of the falling leaves and the human touch for which they crave.
The strand creeps trough every open spot until it hits the edge of the rocks and falls.
And it falls, and it falls so much that it screams louder and louder, in hope of someone to come and catch it.
But no one comes. The water splashes the ground and the rocks but somehow the fall doesn’t hurt, not even a bit. No one come and catch the falling water since there’s already some fallen water which awaits for the landing of more and more water.
The strand becomes more agitated but calmer in the same time and lets it’s water fall from the top with such joy that the screaming sound becomes a forgotten echo.
Sorry for the lack of updates orz. I know i promissed more posts but as usual, life gets in the way. Hope you enjoyed this post! Sorry for the bad quality of some of the pictures but it was my first time experimenting with falling water and i was really hypped and also in a hurry since i was on a trip to the mountains ~~ Until next time, take care!