Iguazú Falls as seen from the Argentinian side of the Parana. Photograph © James P. Blair

Iguazú Falls
By Jeff Rennicke

Misiones Province, Argentina: You hear it before you see it. You feel it before you hear it, through the soles of your feet, in the chambers of your soul—a low rumble, the very ground thrumming beneath you. Step to the edge. A gust of wet wind. The earth falls away. Iguazú Falls. For 745 miles the Rio Iguazú winds across southern Brazil from its headwaters in the Serra do Mar, taking in countless tributaries, jumping through the choreography of its 70 other waterfalls, building momentum for this moment...this leap into the abyss.

To the Guaraní Indians, it was the "great water." Though taller than Niagara Falls, the greatness of Iguazú is not in its height. There are other, taller falls. It is in its immensity. During the rainy season, the lip of its two-and-a-half-mile crescent-shaped cliff is strung with ribbons of water like the strings of some immense harp. Some 275 cascades pour off the plateau and disappear into the gorge. Some plummet straight down 269-foot drops in unbroken plumes. Others dance their way down in glittering steps. Where the falls is broken by ledges, the torrent explodes into spray cloaking the gorge in an eternal mist that spawns thousands of rainbows arcing across the face of the falls.

Iguazú is the beating heart of two national parks, one in Argentina and one belonging to Brazil. Both offer pathways that lead you to dozens of angles to view the falls. At each one there is the dance of rock, and water, and light. The air vibrates with sound. The forest drips. The rocks...drip. A fine net of mist drifts lightly against your face, your nose, your cheeks. Lick your lips. Taste the falls. Ponder the abyss.

The information in this story was accurate at the time it was published, but we suggest you confirm all details before making travel plans.