Following Water

Only one mile from where I am living here in Rochester, N.Y., is a waterfall. There is no need to go on an epic journey to get to it--it is right in the middle of the city. There is no mecca-like exchange in the awe of nature-- it is right under a freeway. I can't tell you how sad it is to me that the freeway was put there. I can see the use of the river and the falls in historic commerce and production--this is an area born of the Industrial Revolution after all. But a freeway? Right over it? No, you can't see the falls from the road. It's probably better that way. Fewer accidents.

But they were lovely falls.

And just downstream of them, maybe two miles...

More falls! I know, can you believe it? I have seen more water falls this month than in my entire life combined. The river winds north (I didn't really know they did that), and empties into Lake Ontario, at the northern border of the country. I didn't see any Canadians trying to get across by boat, like the Cubans do in Florida. But is was a fascinating feeling to have stood at so many borders of our country. How many people never see these things?



The river concludes its journey in a bay that connects with Lake Ontario.

I can't remember the last time I saw a beach. With sand even.