Three Sister’s Islands ~ Niagara’s hidden gem

There is a corner, on an island, among the trees. You can hear the rushing waters of the rapids, and the thunderous roar from beyond your view, and if the wind is blowing just right, the mist may kiss your face. The place is Three Sister’s Islands, set above the mighty cataract. And if you’ve heard of Niagara ~ you may very well never have heard of these Islands, nor of the girls they are named after: Asenath, Angeline, Celinda Eliza and their little brother Solon. These are three daughters and a son, long gone, yet there are four islands, above the Horseshoe Falls, that are called by their names. (*See bottom of page).

 {I heard this song on the radio, just before this was pressed…. & I Felt  it in those waters. Maybe you will too}…  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=maT4phfTXR4

Refreshing and relentless, on it’s way to a hefty plunge.

There are those of us who remember, in the not-so distant past, when we could still run free, and stick our toes in the dangerous rush of rapid, before the fences were placed solid, and the pristine paths were poured. But we made room for you, the far off soul, not familiar with our slippery and sultry siren, who called out our names, but we would not heed.

The water’s changing color beckons, cool and clear, deceptively calm in places…

…brash and bold in others.

Seagulls remain unaffected by the water’s impatience, and sit placidly in place, hopeful of a meal.

Well-worn paths, from years of use, will soon be overgrown, set behind wire and stone.

Even rock is eroded by the relentless power of the water’s downward trek to the gorge, creating miniature islands in the river.

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Billows of white, like crashing waves, plummet, repeatedly as the land declines toward the great drop.

Each and every step offers another facet of their personality, as if the islands are mimicking the sisters, themselves.

And then we emerge, past the protection of the crannies and the coves, to face a full on onslaught, a deluge of froth and foam; an International border clothed in lacy white.

And if we turn our heads to the right, towards the sound of a torrent, we can see the rising cloud as the Sisters saw…

…and the Alabaster City as they could not see…

And back at the beginning…a pretty path…

…and a trolley car…

…and a gleaming trolley stop…

…But we can still see the flowers beneath the ancient stones…

…and the bridge…

…and we all have a place to picnic…

For we are sharing of our beautiful bounty, and we have made a place for all to see, and enjoy…

…and we can still remember…

http://www.niagarafallsinfo.com/history-item.php?entry_id=1293¤t_category_id=162

Me and my ‘Rooster’; a substitute ‘chick’ for the day!

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