“Where’s the falls?”
Larry eyed the man who stood on the other side of the station counter, in his cargo pants and tan vest with its abundance of pockets. They didn’t get many strangers around here, even in spite of the fact the Trans-Labrador Highway was the only highway in the whole of the province. “What falls?”
Larry leaned back, grinning. “Well you’ve found it then, man. You’re here. This Churchill Falls.”
The man turned over his shoulder, confused as he eyed the long rows of flat-topped buildings. He cleared his throat. “I meant the water falls.”
“Oh,” Larry said. For Churchill Falls had housing and shopping and stores. It had an army of steel lattice soldiers stringing cable from the power plant to every corner of the region. But the one thing they did not have was a waterfall. Not anymore.
My apologies for being late to my very own party. I’ve been fighting a virus.
Special thanks to Google contributor Larry Flemming, who took many of the wonderful photospheres of this region. Thanks to Larry we all got to see and learn more about this lovely region of the world.