Iguazu

So if any of you have never read any romantic poetry, google Mont Blanc, Shelley´s Defense of Poetry, maybe some Wordsworth or Coleridge and then come back to reading as you should have a much better understanding of the experience I am goint to attempt to describe.  Or if reading in beautiful metered verse doesn´t quite get you going (then again shame on you) put aside any sense of foolishness the modern world might conjure within you and go have a nice long look at the sun setting over a mountain or sit next to the ocean, do some meditating under a waterfall or anything that makes people stare at you and wonder if you might be on acid (again see Coleridge) and perhaps again you might not think I sound off.  Anyways, Iguazu is by far one of the most powerful and mindblowing sights in all of nature, once you get past the lines of tourists and globs of small children (or in Keith and my case stuck on the path with a group of small children and then if your me getting past them and looking back to find Keith and not being able to pick him out immediately and then feeling bad cause a. you might have left your friend behind and he doesn´t speak spanish or b. he is a 22 year old bearded white male and you are having trouble picking him out of a large mass of 10 year old Argentines)  any ways, suffice it to say that there were lots of tourists but you can find ways around the crowds. 
So, lets shift away from crowds, and back to me staring into the abyss that is Iguazu.  Fun fact, the amount of water coming off of those falls can fill an Olympic sized pool ever two seconds.  More importantly, standing there watching can bring you to a place where possibly you step outside of space and time and simply are aware of yourself and your relationship to the world.  The name of the lookout is called the Devil´s throat, while I experienced something more along the lines of divinity through the awe inspiring power of that sight, its fitting enough that the name reflects something other worldly.  It was as if in that moment the entirety of my life was compressed and I saw the purpose behind not only myself, but all being in the universe.  The simple act of breathing became an act of divine inspiration.  It should go unquestioned that after walking away I was somewhat speechless for ten minutes and probably looked like a stumbling drunk, but seeing as I felt like Adam in the Sistine Chapel (the finger reaching out and almost touching God) just appearing a wee bit woozy isn´t too bad. 
So that experience kept me sane through out 35 hour bus ride to Mendoza from where I am now typing.  But a French couple is sitting here looking envious of the only computer in the Hostel so I will be on my way.  Love to all, hope everything is well-Logan  (PS read more poetry)