On a clear autumn day at the end of a backpacking trip through Coyote Gulch, I set up the large format camera at this waterfall as the sun dropped low enough to ignite the towering cliffs above. The rock face tells its own story in color — deep blues and greens from mineral deposits streaking the stone, rust and ochre where iron has bled through over centuries — and the water falls in a silken curtain over all of it, smoothing the edges, catching the last warmth of the day. The cliffs above glow deep orange against a cobalt sky, and below, the pool receives everything in stillness. Shot on large format film to hold the full depth of color from summit to water, the scene felt like standing at the threshold of something sacred — the gates at the edge of paradise, carved by water and time.