When The Niagara Falls

A sudden decision to drive down the following day gave me no time to set my expectations and a good eight hours after four in the morning, we entered the town of the world famous falls.

(This for some reason brought back a memory of a comment written on my slam book back in school. It said “yours till the Niagara falls”. The brain is such a fantastic machine. It correlates in the most unusual fashion!)

A quick lunch later we were all set to explore the waters of the Niagara.

 

Across the river, the skyline of Ontario seemed to beckon me and someday I hope to cross that bridge too. Atop the observation deck, I took in the view, the crisp air and the majestic glory of this Kingdom of water.
It felt alive, so much so I could almost hear it breathe, the rhythmic sound of the water gushing down and hitting the river and rocks below with all its might gave it a steady heartbeat.

Tiny blue formations a good two hundred feet below gave me a sense of the size of the falls. A ride down an elevator coupled with a blue raincoat and we were a part of the same ‘bonsai’ group of individuals.

'The Maid of the Mist'-the name of our ride was anything but a misnomer. The Mighty may only be served!

As we progressed, the wind constantly sprayed water on us, the spray eventually changed to a full blown shower. The boat stopped adjacent to the American side of the horse shoe falls and for those few minutes, I felt I was in Paradise.

There was a milky white curtain of water surrounding us on all three sides; so majestic and large- bigger than I could have ever imagined it to be. The mist changing direction with the wind and the sea gulls gliding aimlessly over us, the bluish reflective sheen of the water and then out of nowhere, the most beautiful rainbow! I could almost touch it I thought.
The sights, the sounds and the sweet tasting water- lost waterway of Eden, an Epic movie or a different planet altogether?
Was such beauty, such enormity for real? Bliss!

We dropped anchor, post which we headed to the Cave of the Winds. Yellow raincoats and a hundred and fifty feet drop later we were back in a dream.
Red wooden stairs zigzagged their way up to the so called Hurricane Deck. A spot so windy so watery and yet so fascinating.
The rainbow still hadn’t died out. It felt as though I had found the mythical pot of gold- richer in experience I sure had become.

No wonder, couples exchange wedding vows on this very deck. After all, it embodies the spirit of everything that’s beautiful, sacred and eternal.

I stood in awe, watching the clouds, the water, the sun and the birds and couldn’t help feeling small and insignificant.

Words can’t do justice to the brilliance it exudes.

Really,nothing compares to the beauty of this planet we call home.