How do you describe waterfalls to a blind person?

It is, for me, like trying to describe the waterfalls of Iguazu to you. Iguazu park spans both Argentina and Brasil, and there are about 2km of waterfalls. There are many superlatives, but none can really describe what it is like to stand [on a catwalk, while wearing a plastic overcoat (think hefty bag in yellow, with a hood) in front of a 7-story waterfall, so close that you feel you could almost touch it; or to stand on another catwalk, at the top of what is called Garganta del Diablo (The Devil's Throat) and look down the largest waterfall in the Iguazu parks, while viewing other waterfalls that surround you expect for a single side, while mist from the water crashing on the rocks rises and rises and rises and then reaches critical mass and then washes over the catwalk in what feels like a warm, and very, very heavy, Spring rain. Once I get back home (that is, BA), I will post a couple pictures for you -- I took between 60-70.

Now, to today's title. Yesterday [in the Argentinian Iguazu national park, we went to the Brasilan one on Friday], several times we passed a tour group that was comprised nearly in total of blind (or legally blind) people. How do you describe a walk in the jungle to someone who can't see it? How do you describe a waterfall? I haven't worked this out in total, but I understand how I would begin to attempt this. This group was with us when we visited the Garganta, and it was amazing to watch this group. To get to Garganta, you have to take a little train ride (think the kind of kiddie train in a zoo), then walk over 300 or so meters of catwalk, over different parts of the river that flows in to the various waterfalls. As you gradually get closer to the waterfalls, it goes like this: the temperature starts to drop, and become more humid; you walk through several mini-islands in the stream; you walk through the third or fourth island, and you start to see mist over the trees in front of you; then you pass through another island, and you can see the very edge of a waterfall in the distance; then, you start to get even close and the sound of the waterfall starts to be heard; then you pass through another island and find yourself at the end of the catwalk, being covered in the mist-rain and the sound of the waterfalls is at an incredible volume. Now, imagine doing this with a blindfold on. As the blind people arrived at the end of the catwalk, they would laugh and scream in joy as they felt the mist-rain and heard the waterfalls. At one point, they all joined together and started jumping up and down and singing a song. The joy on their faces was incredible and I hope I never forget it.

I still haven't finished writing about Iguazu in my private journal (yes, not everything I do ends up here -- if I manage to find a publisher for this blog, I do want additional stories and details to include, and there are also many things that I just don't care to share with a large audience right now, as I'm sure you can imagine). When I do, I will post a longer and more descriptive piece on Iguazu.

Oh, and the mosquitoes here are either immune to Skin So Soft (as witnessed by the ring of 5-6 bites around my right elbow (who knew elbows were so tasty??)), or I was just too tired to be applying the lotion evenly and thickly enough. It's also worth noting that if you're going to visit waterfalls and are told In Advance that You Will Get Wet, that it is an incredibly good idea to bring your anti-mosquito lotion with you, as the water WILL wash it away.

Sometimes I get so excited that rational thought just escapes me.