The little bridge is sad. It's almost hidden. It just does its job, which is to get you from Goat Island to tiny Luna Island.
Cross it, and don't pay attention to the back end (the southwest side) of Luna Island, not yet. Run up and watch the falls. See how the tiny patch of land you're on separates all this water. Most of it goes to the right to form the American Falls, but a little bit of it ends up on your left and turns into Bridal Veil Falls. Look at that unlucky water, which doesn't seem to have as far down to go but seems to be more violent. I would never want to go over the falls, even in the plushest, most armored barrel. Not for all the money in the world or for notoriety or sure happiness or existential completeness or even to commit suicide. But if I had to go over on the American side, I would choose the American Falls. Either way is certain death, but Bridal Veil Falls is so narrow, so alone. Think of all that, and then think of that sad little bridge, which spans Bridal Veil Falls. That bridge is the only thing connecting you to the rest of humanity.
Luna Island may eventually crumble and fade away. Over the course of thousands of years, Niagara Falls will migrate gradually upstream until it reaches the edge of Lake Erie. If Luna Island doesn't succumb to erosion, the waters that now surround it may be diverted, and the island may become a peninsula, then an escarpment, and then a strangely squarish geologic feature with water-worn edges. Humans will probably be extinct by then. We haven't survived very long, relatively, and although we're the most intelligent creatures ever to have lived on Earth, unlike most animals we don't live in balance with our surroundings. We have and will continue to kill off thousands of other species in our own slow descent into epochal irrelevance, but long after we're gone, the ground that makes up Luna Island will be here. Or somewhere.
Yes, I thought about a lot of this during the twenty-five minutes or so I spent on Luna Island. It's a special place. read more