Water is as near a universal solvent as you’re likely to find, and odd. It is at its most dense four degrees above its freezing point, which is why ice floats. It exhibits curious behaviours in its tiniest fragments and is the basis of organic human life. Water falling is a percussive cloud, a grinding drill, a gentle spray. It is survival and extinction. The first Waterfallers were mad people, daredevils and thrill seekers who made a sport of tumbling, dancing and diving in the seething plumes of rivers running from cliffs into clear air. They spun, they flew, and then they fell, and more often than not they were smashed. If not, they made love and married well, and grew rich in the favour of imagined gods.