Raging beauty

I am fascinated by waterfalls.
Especially those, that open up not right away, but after a moderate hike, neatly tucked into the woods, peeking through the fallen trunks and dense branches as you approach, and finally meeting you head on with all their raw, raging, untamed, ever changing and unpredictable but powerful glory, and the true unspoiled natural beauty.
They reflect the rising sun in the myriad of sparkles.
They fill the air with excitement and freshness of the misty chill, and as you walk down the stream becoming quieter and calmer, finally turning into a peaceful flow gently curving along the framing scenery of the greenish shores.

But wait, am I talking about women or of waterfalls?! Sorry, dear reader, got carried away a bit. Back to the steadily predictable notion of gravity pulling water currents with the increasing speed down the nesting cascades...