Creating a Waterfall Photo Book

The idea for my Finger Lakes waterfall photo book didn’t come to me all at once. It wasn’t a sudden spark or a single hike that made me say, this is it. Instead, it grew slowly, much like my relationship with the region itself.

I wanted to create something meaningful. Something that would take time. Not a quick project, not a weekend sprint, but a long-term commitment that I could chip away at between work, family life, and the realities of everyday responsibility. Photography, for me, has always lived in those in-between moments, early mornings, quiet evenings, stolen hours when the light and the weather finally line up. A photo book felt like the right kind of challenge.

Choosing the Theme

Waterfalls were an easy choice, and at the same time, not an easy one at all. The Finger Lakes region is defined by water, by glacial valleys, deep gorges, creeks that tumble and carve their way through shale and limestone. I’ve spent years photographing these places, often returning to the same falls in different seasons, different light, different moods. A waterfall is never the same twice, and that idea felt like the foundation of a book worth making.

I also wanted the project to reflect patience. Waterfalls demand it. You wait for the right flow, the right conditions, the right moment when crowds thin out and the landscape feels quiet again. That mirrored what I wanted from the book itself.

Building The List

The first real step was simple, and overwhelming. I started making a list of every waterfall I could find across the Finger Lakes and surrounding areas. Guidebooks, old notes, online resources, conversations with other hikers and photographers, it all went into one growing document. That list is still growing, and I suspect it always will.

From there came the harder part: editing, the paring down of the list.

Some waterfalls had to be removed because they sit on private property. Others were eliminated because access is unsafe, restricted, or would require crossing land that simply isn’t meant to be explored. A few were beautiful in theory but surrounded by environments that make photography nearly impossible—tight brush, heavy development, or awkward vantage points that don’t allow the falls to breathe in a frame.

It wasn’t about finding the most waterfalls. It was about finding the right ones.

Working Around Real Life

One of the most important parts of this project is that it fits into my life, not the other way around. I don’t disappear for weeks at a time to chase images. Instead, I plan carefully. I watch weather forecasts. I revisit locations close to home. I return to the same falls multiple times if needed, knowing that a better photograph might come later.

That flexibility is what makes the project sustainable. Some weeks I make progress. Other weeks, life wins—and that’s okay. This book isn’t about rushing.

Weather, Water, and Waiting

The early part of the year is always the hardest. Winter lingers. Trails are icy. Snowmelt is unpredictable. And after the drought of the previous summer and fall, I found myself constantly checking stream gauges and hoping.

Spring brings optimism. With it comes the promise of rain, snowmelt, and fuller flows. Waterfalls wake up again, and the landscape feels alive. I’m looking forward to those days—muddy boots, overcast skies, and the sound of water echoing through a gorge after months of quiet.

That uncertainty is part of the story. Some waterfalls may need to wait another year. Some might surprise me when conditions finally align. The book will reflect that patience, that waiting, that trust in the process.

More Than a Book

This project isn’t just about photographs. It’s about slowing down. About learning a place deeply instead of checking it off a list. About building something over time that reflects both the Finger Lakes and my own journey as a photographer.

The waterfalls will keep flowing. The list will keep growing. And little by little, page by page, this book will come together, exactly the way it’s meant to.