Recently, my mother and I decided to visit the places we used to frequent on the American side of Niagara Falls. I wanted to go with the intention of photographing as well as honoring the memory of my maternal grandmother. She had lived in this area for the majority of her life and since her passing in July of 2013, my family visits here have grown infrequent. I find this place both bittersweet and sacred in my memory.
As we drove, I photographed out the car window, capturing the power lines that follow the thruway and cut through the landscape. When I was a kid, we used to make this drive quite often. I remember always being bored out of my mind, staring out the window following the power lines that tethered here to home.
When we arrived we started walking around Goat Island, following the path around the river. At each opening in the trees, I would approach the water to document the walk.
It was an incredibly hot day so by the time we got to the actual falls, we only stayed a short while. The mist was high and refreshing to walk through. Shooting through it, the buildings were veiled in the distance.
It was great to get back here and look at this place with fresh eyes. I’m grateful for all the times I’ve gotten to see this place in person growing up. It still means the world to me now.
