The Edge of the World

I was holding tightly to my Daddy’s hand as we walked along the pavement towards a world of deep, overwhelming noise, through misty, wet air, and into the moving clouds. When the white air shifted, I saw all the water in the world fall over the edge of the earth as far across as I could see, but nobody seemed frightened. Most were pointing, and some were laughing and smiling, and all seemed every bit as amazed as I felt.

As Daddy lifted me up at the big fence and held me tight, a better view of this tumultuous world appeared, and I suddenly knew exactly where my family had brought me. What an adventure! What a place to visit! We had come to the edge of the world, and here it was dropping off into the sky and disappearing into the clouds.

“Where does the water go, Daddy?” I asked, and Daddy explained about the water going away and around the world and coming back. What an astonishing thing was water, that it could find its massive way back from oblivion and into the rivers again. All the way back from the edge of the world.

“Is this the end of the world?” I was certain that it was so, but not having the word for “edge,” I used “end,” and I knew from Daddy’s answer that he hadn’t understood.

Our family lingered there, mist-kissed, soaking in this overwhelmingly noisy, wet, white, and grey place that was where the water left the earth.

—Niagara Falls, Canadian side