Another Weekend, Another Waterfall

Traveled to Marangu with my housemate Christina and our favorite taxi driver today. I stood a few feet back from the falls and basked in the shadows, the way the sun filtered through the trees, through the water. A bird flew overhead and I thought about those cheezy, laminated ply-board knick-knacks with prayers or bad poetry printed in a fancy font, the kind you find at Goodwill. All these years I'd grown up with this image so that the very idea of a waterfall seemed cliche. No, they were right. But a picture can never do it justice. You must feel the sun beat down on you and be choked by the spray from the falls to see the real beauty in the place.