The valley walls lose their horizontal white bands. They step back along their joints, with recesses and gullies, and from the meadow the granite no longer repeats one pattern across a whole wall. Look up at the rims from the valley floor and you see bare scoured granite, not a tan band.
Climb onto a bare granite slab, such as the dome above the camp, and you find erratic boulders in groups, loose blocks and flat plates, with grass, shrubs and young pines growing in the cracks.
The tall waterfall reads as falling white water down a dark wet stain on the granite, not glossy white lines painted on the wall. Walk to its foot, about 200 meters away, and the water streams down in moving sheets, mist rises over the foot above the trees and white water churns round the base. From across the valley it is one soft bright ribbon with a white foot, and the roar carries farther from the big falls.
