Niagara Falls by day, part 1

Walking along the Niagara River in Niagara Falls State Park, I wasn't sure quite what to expect. I'd always wanted to go to the Falls, but my visual had been somewhat skewed for years. I do this, sometimes; I conjure up an image in my mind that is undoubtedly inaccurate, and not necessarily for better or worse, just different. Josh had been years ago, but was having a difficult time actually remembering what they looked like. This is what happens. The mind, whether it knows something or not, has a silly little way of playing tricks on you.

We had arrived to the American state park around 10:30 in the morning, still nervous that there might be a potential thunderstorm brewing, but nonetheless, we forged ahead.

A brief history: The falls are divided into two sections that straddle the American/Canadian border. They were formed at the tail end of the last ice age, Wisconsin glaciation, when glaciers receded, forming the gorge. Water from the newly-fashioned Great Lakes (i.e., Erie and Ontario) carved a path through an area known as the Niagara Escarpment on its way to the Atlantic Ocean. Though the falls are not the highest in the world, they are exceptionally wide. The American Falls and Bridal Veil Falls (separated only by Luna Island) face Canada from New York's international border. The Canadian Falls, or Horseshoe Falls (appropriately named), are separated from American territory by Goat Island. It is reported that nearly six million cubic feet of water comes crashing down from the crest of the falls every minute. But I digress.

We wandered down the promenade, and to our left the American Falls suddenly appeared. The American Falls are intimidating in an unusual way; they aren't that impressive as far as the beauty of waterfalls goes, but the monstrous rocks that are strewn about at the base of the falls leaves you with a mildly uneasy feeling--like it would be a bad situation to go over that particular set of falls. Not to mention that the intensity of a landslide, or erosion, occurring on a yearly basis is somewhat astronomical in its own right. I was intrigued to say the least. Josh already had his tripod set up and was instructing me how and where to pose. The spray tickled our noses, and we saw the impressive Canadian side from the walkway. We walked around for an hour or so, enjoyed the major attractions (Maid of the Mist and Cave of the Wind, where, I withstood the power of the waterfall from Hurricane Deck), and were mostly thankful that it hadn't rained.

It was a pretty magnificent site. I could only hope that once we got to Canada to see the full horseshoe, that we would be even more impressed; speechless, or at the very least, in awe of Mother Nature.