Perpetual rainbow

I am back at the falls – parked at the Canadian side, and running on a fine winter’s day, crisp sunshine and clear blue sky imported from a California summer’s day, preserved in cold storage for me, lifting this traveler’s worn spirits.

The thundering cascade pours dramatically into a bowl of snow and ice, immediately subdued by the frozen river; a magician’s sleight of hand soothes that torrent below the icy surface, and the image looks like a still, a painting of dramatic snowscapes surrounding the falls.

I run through the spray, and then in the clear, stopping on a pathway to wipe my glasses. Intrigued by the sign for a Tropical Forest, I find myself surrounded by fern and money plant in a hot house. I gawk at the Banana Tree, lonely here in this winter wasteland, and offer to carry a letter in a bottle to its distant brethren.

The sun is low in the horizon, and I see a perfect rainbow in the spray above the falls. It is symmetric, complete, and so very close at hand, I could reach out for that pot - but more important than fool’s gold, today, is the sustenance I can suck from that rainbow. Much needed strength to find the way forward, to navigate life, love and impossible choices.

Niagara - Spring in Fall

Gold-yellow leaves in elegant parade welcome me, lone survivors of the first winter storm, a splash of color against the grey sky; instantly uplifting, like green shoots of emergent grass after long hibernation. The concern shrouding my mind is broken by those remnant leaves – the vivid hue penetrates vicious circles of despair, breaking the mold, letting me off the treadmill of doubt. Warmed by those colors, I straighten my back and lengthen my stride, easing into this run for renewal.

The rumbling spray of the falls fills my mind – the cloud rising from the gorge is medicinal – smoke signals of hope – the roar of pounding water is a thousand drummers exhorting me to run faster, to move forward, to carry on. I must suck the energy of these endless waters, learn their unfaltering drive, absorb their unending passion.

I am at the water’s edge, looking down at the black rocks a hundred – no, a thousand – feet below. The gulls ignore the roiling water, serenely swooping to sate their hunger, their calm glide punctuates this maelstrom with grace and serenity. I will be this water, pounding, rushing, a driving force filled with energy. Like the rocks, I will be strong, withstanding the constant force, eternal – a survivor.

But it is the gulls I envy their peace.