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Showing posts with label Niagara. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Niagara. Show all posts

Thursday

Red Light - Green Light

When I was a young woman I visited my parent's house one summer, my two little girls with me. It was a cottage home, small, but cute. It rested within a beach front community in Youngstown, New York, located at the mouth of the Niagara River where it joins Lake Ontario. The beach sat down below a cliff, which we had access by stairs.

In the daytime, we could look across a great expanse of shimmering water. It felt so peaceful. Sometimes there were sailboats afloat. Occasionally, if we looked out far enough, we could see an occasional freighter ship running through the middle of the lake on it's way out to the St. Lawrence River to the Atlantic Ocean.

On a clear night my girls and I could sit at the edge of the cliff on the top step of the stairs, and view the black velvet water, thousands of stars sprinkled across it like sparkles glued upon a Halloween costume.

Without binoculars, straight across from us, about 40 miles away, we could see the lights of the city of Toronto, Canada. We often sat there lulled by the quietness of the starlight, the lapping of the water upon the shore, and the light breeze rustling the leaves on the huge oak tree in the back yard.

We could have lined a string directly across the lake to the brightly lit traffic signal that reliably changed every few minutes from green to red to yellow to green. It was hypnotic.



Photo of Toronto at Night by Richard Almasi

Tuesday

Spring Flooding

The winter of 1949 had been harsh, starkly white, and unsafe for a little girl to go out. I stared out the dining room window at my big naked friends, the Maple trees, wondering if they were asleep like Mommy said.

Sometimes I looked across the way and saw our neighbor, Mrs. Samalski, the Police Chief’s wife, through her window tending to her houseplants. I wondered why her plants weren’t asleep. Sometimes she saw me, smiled and waved at me.

Spring rushed in with unexpected warmth that nearly drowned us all. The Niagara river climbed over it’s banks.

Muddy water eddied in front of our doorstep, crept over the sill, and filled the basement overnight. I gazed out the window at the kaleidoscope patterns of the water as it rose around the house.


I was entranced by the sights and sounds outside as we waited for the boat rescuers. It wasn’t the roar of the water that piqued my curiosity; it was the human-like moaning of the trees as they fought to keep their roots in the thick clay soil, and the muck-sucking sounds when the flood tried to tear them out by the roots. Those tall proud Guardians won the battle as the waters swiftly receded.

After the water withdrew, I begged to go outside, so I could investigate the new sprouting green buds, and splash in water puddles (wearing my high galoshes, of course).

After all, my big brother had been out there every day since the flooding began, filling sand bags and shoveling mud with Daddy. It was a disappointment for me, once I got outside. All the beautiful mud patterns were gone and I struggled as the sludge grabbed my galoshes. Needless to say, I landed face down in the stinky stuff.

Discouraged, I dragged myself back inside and stayed safely behind my window as buds opened into lovely leaves. The sun dried out the earth, neighbors gathered together to clean up the mess as the days went by. Then, with my nose pressed hard against the window, I closely examined the newly blooming Lilacs at the base of our window, and welcomed their return.

Wednesday

To Cayuga Creek and Niagara River



Once, there was a dream, never-ending,
flowing greatly within my heart’s happiness.

Capturing the last remnants of summers' heat,
the multi-hued pages of flame,
drifted lightly in the hands of the wind.

I ran alongside the swift stream bed
wondrously chasing the buoyant colors.

And my heart could fly
when it reached land’s end.

No barriers to my joy
I followed the merry journey onward,
through the singing waters.

Until the river opened wide
quickly rushing beneath that grand island bridge.

Leaves excitedly danced,
and took little leaps through the rapids
until they jumped off the crest of the waterfall
to be carried,
once again, by the wind.

Elizabeth Munroz