Temper.. Temper…

Trying to living up to its namesake.
Trying to living up to its namesake.

The sprays are getting stronger. The last wave blurred my glasses. My mind starts the age old debate of decisions. Should I walk back to the car on continue writing this out?! I find myself sitting on top of a small boulder facing Niagara. Niagara is a waterfall. A strong one at that. Waves and waves of cold water droplets lash out from his center. It was like rain except for the fact that rain falls down. These tiny drops were cast out like a net from a fisherman’s hands. The fisherman in question is in an awful temper.

It’s been raining for a week and water is plentiful. It was enough to nourish Niagara’s huge appetite and give purpose to its fall. And what a fall it was. Water gushing down with murderous intent. Taking out frustration and pent up anger on its eternal enemy, the rock base. God only know what those rocks must have done wrong to receive such punishment. The impact is so strong, it creates meters high water mist flung outwards and wide.

These droplets wash over me again. Once again I think of rain. The paper I write on starts dripping. The words become sploshy. I stop writing and look up. Two small boys and their little sister run across the rocks oblivious to both the horizontal rain and the powerful waterfall. They are more concerned about jumping boulders and looking for frogs. Their little sister tries hard to keep up.

It’s cloudy but the clouds only thinly hides the sun. The sun seems to be playing its favorite peek-a-boo game. The good thing about a sun peek-a-boo is it creates beautiful streaks of light rays rather than the over washed blanket we usually get. Just when I think the decor could not get any better, the sun proves me wrong and draws me a rainbow. The constant outflowing blanket of droplets is the perfect canvas for a rainbow. So says my logical mind with its scientific training. My right brain on the other hand thinks that the sun is trying to soothe Niagara by painting a ribbon of colors. Hopefully, the interplay of light would lull its temperament and abate its anger.

Despite the pretty artwork, Niagara seems unconvinced and gushes even more water in what appears to be defiance. The rainbow grows stronger and more defined. It catches the eye of the younger sister who promptly abandons her brothers. She tries her best to catch the rainbow but it remains as fleeting as the sprays of waters that created it. This brings a smile to her dad who scoops her up and tickles her. Her laughter is how I imagine little angels would sound like if they laughed. The sun seems equally as mesmerized and shines on her golden locks. For a moment, the mighty waterfall seems stilted.

I find myself smiling. Surely, it can’t get any better than this…

Niagara then decides I was ready for my shower.