I'd never heard of them despite being fairly familiar with the Tatamagouche area. I'd navigated the twists and turns of Balmoral Road dozens of times and crossed Baileys Brook on my way to the village proper, but had no idea where those waters led. Pashala & Klaus directed me along an unnamed road and asked that I stop just shy of a bridge overlooking the brook. We walked along the water's edge, climbing over deadfall and ducking under larch bows. After a bend in the brook the temperature dropped. The air smelled fresh - just like rain or falling snow. Then you could hear them. Then you could see them. 

Drysdale Falls.


The bugs may have been horrendous. I may have slipped and wet rocks and damaged a lens and drowned my shoes. But it was worth it - the perfect primer for their wedding later that week.

They were married on a small knoll by her grandfather's home. Thick woods to the west, windmills to the east. A shy thunderstorm to the south and their family and friends just to the north of them. But not too far. They danced until the stars came out and a heavy dew settled on the grass. It was beautiful. Just like those falls. 

Hasta luego, Tatamagouche.  You're a wedding photographer's dream.