Ontario, Canada. I hadn't seen Niagara Falls before, even though I'd lived in Canada for ten years, about 25 years ago. We went on a beautiful pre- autumn afternoon. It was sunny, with enough clouds to be interesting. I was expecting something wider, taller, and more imposing; why, I don't know. I'd seen photos previously of the boat facing off the water at the bottom of the falls - the Maid of the Mist - and shots across the top of the Falls. Clearly a change in view had to be accommodated. It was difficult to photograph, as mist rising from the bottom flew up and created a constant light rain. 'Every man and his dog' was ambling along the path at the top, snapping shots. Seagulls were gliding in front of the wall of water, using the updraft created. Ducks and gulls were paddling in the swirl at the bottom, quite unfazed by the force of nature and the man-made interruptions of tourists and their boats. Only a few weeks earlier, a young Chinese woman had died at the Falls, having climbed over the railing somewhere along the top, had friends take her photo, then turing to return to them, she slipped. Any bravado on my part to get an interesting shot was coloured by awareness of this recent fate.