Reflections - 56th Anniversary with Norma and Bob
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| Niagara Falls - American Side |
Dear Robert,
I hope all those heavy Florida rains didn’t make driving to work at the hospital difficult for you this June. Spence and I only had overcast skies when we rode to Niagara Falls State Park in New York with your Grandpa Lohse’s cousin Norma and her husband Bob, another Robert. We ambled through the parking lot, admired a Lamborghini, and checked license plates—none from Florida. On the path to the American Falls, tourists posed their children for photos beside signs and flowers. The children focused on lollipops or stones in the dirt.
We zigzagged down a ramp and gawked at the manicured gardens along the side. Quarried stones left over from bridge repairs, so Norma conjectured, accented the spring flowers. Crossing the lawn, we reached the railing by the Niagara River. It roiled toward the precipice then plunged with a roar. My vocabulary plunged to “Wow . . . wow . . . wow.” People walking, jogging, and pushing wheelchairs or strollers milled by. Spanish, Arabic, Chinese, and languages I couldn’t identify floated on the breeze.
We eased through the crowd further along the walkway for a wider view of the American Falls. Folks took selfies with the falls in the background. They pointed at the Maid of the Mist boats nearing the thundering water. Some walked on the bank of the river. Others took elevators to the observation tower. I was content to stand by the railing and soak in the scene—misty air, the babble of voices dimmed by pounding water, seagull cries, and the amazing natural wonder of Niagara Falls.
Love,
Janet
Tourists and the American Falls
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| Shale Creek |
Dear Bob and Norma,
After our delightful adventure-packed days with you—thanks again—we made the 1.2 mile hike to view the Eternal Flames Falls in Chestnut Ridge Park. My alliterative mind interpreted the website’s “moderate” hike description as “mild.” I got a surprise.
In boots, we stepped over tree roots and squishy mud. Towering old hemlocks and oaks blocked sunshine and kept air moist. Red-eyed vireos and hooded warblers cheered us on as did hikers coming back from the falls. Then we reached the steps—nineteen sections varying in number from three to twenty-something. YIKES! At the bottom, a narrow path edged Shale Creek. Returning people grinned. “You’re almost there. Just a walk up the river.” River? The shallow creek spanned ten-foot wide at most. But “up river” made sense when the path disappeared. A dad and toddler splashed into view. We waded in, taking care not to slip on the shale. The creek trickled round curves. A mother and young-adult daughter appeared. The mother motioned with her arm. “It’s around the bend, but it's probably out by now.”
“I’ll go back and light it for you.” The daughter, part wood nymph, giant-stepped over shale, scrambled up the side of the falls, and reached into the grotto with a cigarette lighter. Oomph. The natural gas lit. A foot-high flame flickered beneath spraying water. Stoic Spence whispered, “Wow!” Amazing.
Heading back, we encouraged folks on their way. But managing the stairs without a single bench? I climbed, huffed, and rested by standing still until my heart stopped pounding and I could breathe without gulping. Then I climbed again—the active definition for “moderate” hike.
Love,
Janet
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| Eternal Flame Falls |
If you want to see all sixteen postcards in the 56th Anniversary with Norma and Bob - Buffalo, Erie County, and Niagara Falls Postcard Journal, use this link: https://sites.google.com/site/wellswoodpa/vacations/56th-anniversary-with-norma-and-bob
