Trees and branches flailed violently in stiff gusts as some of the few golden leaves adorning at this late stage of the season detached and flew through the air. Just as chaotic as the trees was the effect this intense, bone chilling cold had on my psyche. With the wind blowing at such a high rate, the cold was inescapable, and it clouded my brain. Up to this point the temperature during our hike had felt fresh and not oppressive, and given that the day was supposed to warm up rather quickly once the sun came up, I was only wearing a moderately thick jacket over a t-shirt and turtleneck. That was hardly sufficient to combat the barrage of wind chill I was engulfed in, which said nothing for my exposed hands and face. Had I picked one waterfall before the trip that I wanted to photograph well, it would have been Crabtree Falls. I hadn’t imagined that I could reach the falls in good light, with nobody else around to cloud my shot, and still encounter such hostile shooting conditions. My mind had pretty quickly gone from fantasizing about an ideal shot to just getting a shot and getting the hell out of there.