Niagara Falls

Some journeys carve themselves into your memory—not just for what you see, but for who you stand beside when you see it. For me, that person was my friend Anika: an occupational therapist, gardener, and kindred spirit in the art of discovering the wild truths of this world. Traveling with her felt like moving in rhythm with the earth itself. And when I think of Niagara, I can’t help but dream forward, to the day we’ll stand together at Iguaçu Falls, watching another world of water and light unfold.

Niagara Falls. The name alone is heavy with expectation. It’s one of those places so drenched in fame you almost expect it to disappoint—crowds, noise, the glitter of casinos, the kind of chaos that leaves no room for silence. And yet… I nearly skipped it. Just thinking about that makes me laugh and cry at the same time. How close I came to missing this raw, wild, soul-shaking beauty. Maybe that’s why it hit me so hard: I arrived with almost no expectations, and left with my soul rewritten.

We only stayed one night—it was the essence of a classic American road trip. A friend by my side, bags of snacks between us, loud U.S. music blasting through the speakers, singing at the top of our lungs, and long conversations flowing with the miles. From Detroit to Buffalo, we hugged the shoreline of Lake Erie, rolled past Toledo and Cleveland, and arrived at Niagara Falls State Park—the very first state park in the United States. With every turn of the road, the air grew heavier, the horizon blurred. And then—before even seeing the falls—we felt them. The mist seeped into everything, a whisper of the force waiting ahead.

The U.S side of the Niagara Falls

The waters rushing past the small islands on the American side of the park are both breathtaking and deadly. Looking at the three waterfalls from above is a beautiful, almost serene experience, but seeing them from below—aboard the Maid of the Mist, soaked by the spray and thunderous power—is completely transformative. Niagara Falls is part of the vast Great Lakes system, connecting Lake Erie to Lake Ontario, and ultimately linking the Midwest to the Atlantic Ocean. Horseshoe Falls is the largest of the three, commanding awe with every drop.

And then came the roar. The Niagara River, that furious artery connecting Lake Erie to Lake Ontario, unleashes its strength through three cascades, with Horseshoe Falls reigning supreme. To stand there is to feel the raw mechanics of the earth laid bare. From above, the water throws itself into oblivion; from below, aboard the Maid of the Mist, you are swallowed whole by spray and thunder.

In the Middle of the Horseshoe

And then—magic. The boat tilted, the sun dipped behind the curtain of Horseshoe Falls, and for a heartbeat it felt as if we were inside the wings of a colossal bird. I looked up. Through the veil of mist, light pierced down like revelation. In that instant, I wasn’t just witnessing a waterfall—I was remembering something so ancient, it felt like the very first memory I ever had: the moment of being born, not just from my mother, but from the world itself—Nature, our original Mother, holding us in her arms for the first time.

It took me two days to put words to it, but in the end, only one truth remains:

Niagara made me feel brand new.