story and photo by Derek Doeffinger
Taughannock Falls has always called to me. As it has to you and many others. From near and far, we feel its draw. From Rochester, Syracuse, Philadelphia, Boston, Los Angeles, Korea, India, Mexico, Germany, Canada, Israel, South Africa, we come. And come again. To see it. To feel its presence. To marvel at the transformation of water into an undulating curtain over two hundred feet long.
At the overlook, we squeeze together to include it in our selfies or to ask a stranger to photograph our group in front of it. Then we turn around to stare across the expanse. It just feels good to look at Taughannock Falls.
We watch as couples holding hands seem to melt into each other. Twice I’ve seen couples embrace on the steps as an officiant completes a seemingly impromptu marriage in the midst of bustling but puzzled tourists who eventually catch on and burst into smiles.
Just when you think Taughannock Falls has no more surprises up its sleeve, you learn otherwise. On this particular day, fresh snow revealed what many of us have long known: Taughannock Falls is the heart of the Finger Lakes.
