Lillaz Waterfalls: Cogne's symphony of water

First, you hear them. The distant roar reaches you through the trees like subterranean thunder, a powerful call that grows with every step. Then, through the dense vegetation of larches and red firs, they begin to appear: bursts of frothing white, silver flashes dancing among the rocks. And finally, when you emerge into the clearing, the Cascate di Lillaz (Lillaz Waterfalls) overwhelm you with all their wild fury.

The Urtier stream plunges here with a primordial violence, dividing into three impetuous leaps that look like a liquid staircase built by giants. The water hurls itself into the void, crashes against the dark rock faces, and explodes into clouds of microscopic droplets that fill the air with an extremely fresh mist. The roar is deafening: a continuous, powerful, hypnotic din that erases all other thoughts. Here, you can only surrender to the brute beauty, the unstoppable force of the water descending from the mountain, bringing with it the cold of the glaciers.

The spectacle changes with every season, as if nature enjoys constantly reinventing itself. In spring, when the snow on the peaks melts, the waterfalls are at their peak power: masses of dazzling white water roaring with an almost frightening violence, flooding the rocks, splashing everywhere, creating ephemeral rainbows in the mist. The air around becomes saturated with humidity; you feel the drops on your skin like an icy kiss; the scent is that of pure water mixed with wet moss and the resin of the fir trees.

In summer, when the flow subsides slightly, you can better distinguish the liquid choreography: you see how the water divides into silvery rivulets, how it dances on the rocky ledges, drawing ephemeral lace, and how it forms turquoise pools at the base of each leap before regrouping and plunging again. The sun filters through the foliage, creating beams of golden light that pierce the water mist, transforming the cascades into a shimmering kaleidoscope of reflections and transparencies.

In autumn, when the larches are tinged with golden yellow and the undergrowth explodes in orange and rust tones, the waterfalls become the center of a breathtaking chromatic palette. The contrast between the pure white of the water, the deep green of the evergreens, the burnt gold of the larches, and the leaden gray of the rocks creates compositions that seem painted. The air has a sweet smell of fallen leaves mixed with the metallic freshness of mountain water.

Even the rigid winter has its charms: the waterfalls never completely stop, but the edges are adorned with phantasmagorical ice sculptures, enormous stalactites hanging from the rocks like crystal candelabra, frozen surfaces that catch the light, creating bluish gleams. The water vapor meeting the frost forms delicate rime on the surrounding branches, turning every tree into an ice candelabrum.

The trail leading to the waterfalls is a pleasure in itself: a gentle walk through the fragrant forest, where the smell of damp earth, Porcini mushrooms, and juniper berries accompanies you among centuries-old trunks and lush ferns. It is so accessible that even families with children can reach it, yet it maintains that authentic taste of alpine adventure, of genuine discovery that makes you feel like an explorer of hidden worlds.

Once you reach the panoramic walkways that skirt the cascades, you can choose your favorite vantage point. Every angle offers different perspectives: from below, the waterfalls seem like an infinite liquid wall; ascending upwards, you discover the intermediate jumps, the hidden pools, and the mossy crevices where the water plays with the light. The mist lifted by the spray envelops you, wets your hair, and refreshes your face with that icy caress that smells of melted snow and ancient stones.

The sound here becomes physical music: you feel it in your chest, in your bones, in your teeth. It is a continuous and powerful bass line onto which higher notes are grafted—the lapping on the rocks, the tinkling of the thinner rivulets, the gurgling of the pools—creating a natural symphony that is never exactly the same. You close your eyes and let yourself be lulled by this primordial concert, feeling all the serene power of the mountain flowing before you.

When you finally tear yourself away from this spectacle—always too soon, because you could remain enchanted for hours—you take with you something more than just a memory. You carry the roar in your ears, the coolness on your skin, that sensation of absolute purity that only mountain water can bestow. You carry the awareness of having seen one of the most authentic wonders of the Alps, a place where nature shows its strength without filters or compromises.

How to Get There

• Access: From Cogne, take the municipal road towards Valnontey, following signs for Lillaz (about 3 km). Ample parking is available in the village.
• Trail: The path to the waterfalls starts from the center of the village and is very easy: about a 15–20 minute walk on a flat, well-marked route, accessible even with strollers. The panoramic walkways allow you to admire the cascades up close in complete safety.
• Best Time: A guaranteed spectacle year-round, with maximum flow in spring and early summer.

Photo credits: Hagai Agmon-Snir حچاي اچمون-سنير חגי אגמון-שניר - licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 International license.