At dusk in late fall I found Lower Calf Creek transformed — the waterfall streaming down the layered sandstone above, threading past orange and yellow trees that were mid-surrender, their branches thinning by the day. Deep green grasses held the middle ground, still vivid against the warm tones closing in from every side. Below it all, a still pool gathered everything — the cliff, the falls, the color, the fading light — and held it in a perfect mirror. Fallen leaves floated on the surface like scattered notes, drifting slowly, going nowhere. The vertical panoramic let me stack the whole story: water falling, color blazing, and at the bottom, a pool that keeps what the season lets go.
