This is a picture of Linda wearing a leather jacket. She's reclining at her ease on her elbow. She's sexy after the pattern of James Dean. It's an Autumn day, leaves drifting down from the trees, haziness, browness and sleep taking over the landscape. The sun is weak, wan and very slightly warming. Between us, everything is as gentle as the day - loving looks, little stories about ourselves.

In her small, green car Linda is taking me to see Niagara Falls. I took this picture when we stopped off to buy coffee and sandwiches. Then we continued our journey along the banks of the cold Niagara river. We stopped again to eat our picnic close to water that was running along in muscular humps. Here on a rock by the river we risked making love and were not caught.

Back in the car as we approached the Falls we saw the manmade towers that marked the spot. We parked and I got out to be embraced by Niagara's roar - the sound of slabs and sheets and jets and trickles of water all falling. Hardly waiting for Linda I ran to hang over the railing and take it all in. The river had widened and smoothed out. As it approached the edge, which curved around in a bow 150-200 yards wide, the water seemed to hesitate then plunge smoothly, then tangle, back-eddying and misting in the air.

Other memories jogged by this photo. This Photo. All the Photos

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