I was recently hiking along the Niagara River’s edge, going towards the Whirlpool Rapids, with my camera and equipment. It was during a warm spell in early November. The Niagara Gorge was quiet and bathed in a beautiful late-afternoon, mid-autumn light. Unusual to be able to enjoy it at that time of year, as the hike was arduous and would have been impossible if any snow or ice was on the ground. I started at a languorous, wide area of the river and hiked towards the rapids. Because of the way the terrain was situated, I could hear the rapids long before I could see them. I couldn’t see them until I clamored over some rocks and was right at the river’s edge. I stood in wonder. This moment of awe recalled a moment in my childhood I first became aware of the power of the water, walking with my hands in my parents’ hands upriver, behind the Falls. It took me several minutes before I was able to unpack my camera and tripod. This exhibition partially documents that which is passing right before our eyes. Literally, the photographs show the movement of water over rocks. The area I was photographing from would have been under several meters of water not that long ago. Will the rapids be as spectacular a hundred years from now? Figuratively, though, they show something different. Some may think the river is an inanimate object, but I don’t. The river has a life of its own, and a span measured in millennia. Although you can measure the flow of the water in volume and time, you cannot measure its heart and soul. The river’s passion is my own passion. by Joe Calleja, Photographer