12 Month of Great Falls

It’s been a while since I last checked in here and stayed consistent with my blog. Truthfully, life has been heavy. I needed time to slow down, to process, to sit with everything, and to work on myself. I was exhausted in a way that sleep alone couldn’t fix.

For most of 2025, my energy went into one project. A project that, at times, felt overwhelming, frustrating, and emotionally draining but also deeply healing. If you follow my socials, you may have watched this journey unfold in real time. December became the month where everything came together, where I finally pieced the story into something whole.

This project was dedicated to someone I lost earlier this year. Photography became my therapy, my way of coping, my way of breathing through grief. And in those final months, I could feel him pushing me forward quietly, gently urging me to finish.

This is for you, Joel. Your memory lives here. We miss you.

January — Where It All Began

At the start of the year, I struggled with one simple question: What now? I wanted something that would challenge me creatively, push my photography forward, and force me to grow.

Then it snowed here in Northern Virginia.

My first thought was Great Falls.

This park holds a special place in my heart. It was the first park I ever visited after coming to this country as a child. I still remember standing there, stunned by the landscape something so raw and powerful that I had never seen anything like it before. From that day on, Great Falls became my favorite place in Northern Virginia.

When I first picked up a camera, this was also the first place I photographed. Even now, I return to it as my testing ground where I experiment, practice new skills, and reflect on how far I’ve come.

I had always dreamed of seeing Great Falls covered in snow, so when it finally happened, I knew I had to go. That morning gave me more than just photographs it gave me an idea.

How would Great Falls look throughout an entire year? How would it change as the seasons came and went?

That single snowy visit planted the seed for everything that followed.

A Year in Motion

From that first image, the project was born. I committed to photographing Great Falls for a full year no matter the weather, no matter the challenges, no matter how exhausted or discouraged I felt.

January taught me my first lesson: low light. Shooting at sunrise forced me to confront my weaknesses immediately. Instead of getting discouraged, I studied, adapted, and practiced. That became the rhythm of the year make mistakes, learn from them, and return better prepared.

February was a breakthrough. Everything I had learned about low-light photography began to click. The conditions aligned, the light cooperated, and for the first time, I felt real momentum. I only shoot once a week due to working full time, but those early mornings never felt like work. Waking up before dawn to chase a sunrise is something I genuinely love.

March brought uncertainty. It’s an in-between month still cold, but hinting at change. The lighting wasn’t ideal, which led me back to the park multiple times. On one visit, I witnessed kayakers plunging down the cascades terrifying and incredible at the same time. Watching them navigate the falls reminded me just how alive this place is.

April tested me. Poor conditions, technical frustrations, and self-doubt piled up. I found myself questioning why I had taken on such a demanding project. In hindsight, April was a necessary reset a breaking point that prepared me for what was coming next.

May — Power and Renewal

May was relentless. I visited Great Falls four times, carefully planning around weather and light. After weeks of struggle, everything finally aligned.

Then the storms came.

Heavy rain brought severe flooding, and when I saw photos online, I barely recognized the park. The waterfall itself seemed to vanish beneath the force of the water. I knew I had to return.

The first attempt was still drenched in rain. The second visit, at sunrise, was unforgettable. The currents were wild, the landscape transformed, and the power of nature was overwhelming.

That day is etched into my memory. Trails were reshaped. Familiar paths altered. It was a reminder of how small we are and how powerful the natural world can be.

June & July — Listening to the Body

June required careful timing. It’s the month of my infusion, so I needed to shoot early and allow myself time to recover. Conditions couldn’t have been better high humidity, lingering fog, and strong currents. The sunrise painted the sky with color, making June one of my favorite sets from the entire project. It’s ironic that the months surrounding my infusions produced some of the strongest work. Maybe slowing down helped me see more clearly.

July marked another transition. I had just started a new job and only managed one visit. I experimented with new compositions, but they didn’t fully land. Still, even the imperfect months played a role in the story.

August — Grief

August was the hardest month.

We lost someone incredibly important to our family my son’s uncle suddenly and tragically. Most of the month was spent in shock, grief, and arranging final goodbyes.

The photographs from this month were taken the day after the funeral.

I felt him there with us. Guiding my hands. Steadying my breath.

I almost ended the project then. I felt lost. But I knew he would want me to finish. So I kept going for him. And somehow, this project helped me process his absence.

Pushing Limits

September pushed me physically. I climbed down to the base of the falls to capture a new perspective. The descent was dangerous sharp rocks, steep ravines, no room for mistakes. The climb back up was even harder.

I only did it once.

But the light that day made it worth everything.

October brought unexpected obstacles. A government shutdown closed the park, and I feared the project would be left incomplete. When I learned the trails were still accessible, I woke up earlier than ever, hiking in complete darkness to reach the overlooks. The effort made those images feel earned.

November felt like a gift. The park reopened, humidity returned, and fog rolled in thick and heavy. I was ready. I’ve learned to work with fog, to embrace its softness and dreamlike quality. The images came out exactly as I had envisioned.

December — Full Circle

December held my final infusion of the year. I planned to shoot early and rest afterward but Mother Nature had other plans.

It snowed.

Just like January.

Despite feeling awful physically, I went out for one final hour. I needed to end this project the way it began. Snow fell quietly over Great Falls, and it felt like a closing chapter written by nature itself.

This project asked everything of me physically, creatively, and emotionally. But it gave me more in return. It reminded me why I fell in love with photography in the first place.

Please check out my YouTube videos to see more from this journey over 100 images captured throughout the year.

This work was made with love, patience, and resilience.

In memory of Joel Lopez. We miss you. I hope you’re proud.

Until next time thank you for being here, and Happy New Year.