THE STORY BEHIND THE PHOTOS
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There's this great town close to where I live in Northern New Jersey called Rockaway. It's a quaint little hamlet that dates back to 1894, with charming homes and places of business. But of real interest to me is the river that runs through it.
I woke up extra early one October morning. Glancing out the window, I noticed the fog and light mist swirling about and knew it would be a perfect morning to visit the Rockaway River.
Dawn was just breaking when I arrived, though the clouds were so thick it was hard to tell what time of day it was. The first thing I saw was that the trees lining the river were well into their Fall colors - they were bursting in oranges, yellows and reds. The second thing I noticed was that a few days of rain had swelled the river nicely. The rocks fought valiantly against the current resulting in frothy white swirls of water. This was a good day indeed to shoot the river.
As I made my way to the access point, I could feel the cool rush of the water as it spilled over the man-made falls near the railroad trestle. The roar of the liquid filled my ears with potential. For the next two hours I owned that river. People were driving to work through this small town and I was working the river. The ground was slippery and at times it was tough going, but in the end it was well worth it. It paid off handsomely getting up early that day to get some great shots right in my own backyard.