I posted this image of Niagara Falls, Canada several days ago, because it stirs something in me. However, I wasn't sure at the time what I wanted to say about it, or why such a simple and recognizable image should excite my fancy the way it does. After all, almost every Canadian family has this exact photo in their album. As scenes go, it has become a visual cliche, almost meaningless in its immediacy.

Nevertheless, there is something both elegant and timeless in the classical movement of mighty water over majestic rock. The world shifts and governments fall, the economy crumbles, and religions become more or less fervent, jobs are lost, and families break apart, but this water keeps falling over this rock with the force of the ages, defying description and compelling its viewers. It isn't exotic, and it isn't ethereal. It is rugged and Canadian and fresh and cold, and it doesn't give a damn whether you like it or not. (Puts me in mind of some Canadian authors whom I am honoured to know...)

But then again, really, how can anyone not like it?

Donna Carrick, December 6, 1008