The early afternoon light poured into the Yosemite Valley, similar to the way Bridalveil Creek tossed itself over the ledge hundreds of feet above. Puffs of air swirled near the high canyon rim lifting the falling water from it’s free-fall state, moving it sideways, and in some cases, back up over the brink. I steadied my lens on a small patch of moss growing near the upper edge of the rock. With a little patience, I waited for the veil, swinging left and right in the wind, to create a contour along the beautiful face of granite.
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