The woven hairs of Kamar Dogh falls running down the rocks looks like a mother’s grey hair moving this side and that side smoothly by the blow of a mild breeze rocks of the cascade bed are so high, as if, falling down droplets get tired and lack roaring and groaning of other falls and settle down just like snowflakes with thousands of times smaller and finer sizes in the stream. The move on Kamar Dogh in not just a cascade but imagination of a Meteorite in the longest night of the year of poetical hair of a mother.