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Opposite The Sentinel Rock, at a point nearly twenty-six hundred feet above the Valley floor, Yosemite Creek pours its waters over the cliff in the world's highest and most beautiful waterfall. Leaping the brow of the cliff in a majestic torrent, surrounded by eddying mists of iridescent color, the water goes hurtling down over fourteen hundred feet in a sheer drop to the first bench of the fall. Here it gathers itself for another rush, and after cascading for some six hundred feet, takes another drop of three hundred feet into the seething basin below. To attempt to describe the inexpressible beauty of Yosemite Fall is as impossible as it is unnecessary. During the early months of the season it is a truly awe inspiring sight. The immense volume of water from melting snows in the higher reaches of the Sierras rushes over the brink with irresistible force. The vibration of its thundering impact on the rocks has been known to rattle windows in Yosemite Village nearly a mile across the Valley, and the wind blown spray, shot with all the rainbow colors, can be felt a quarter mile away.

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