With tee shirt weather in October, it’s enough just to be in wild places roaming on the planet, the sun shining and warm on my bare skin, fragrant forests of pine trees as far as the horizon in a rolling green carpet. A multitude of large animals wander freely; fresh bearprints in the road on our morning walk, white- tailed deer scattering out of our way in the motel parking lot, bison lumbering nonchalantly down the highway, coyotes howling while I split firewood this morning, elk grazing in the meadows, bighorn sheep up in the mountains. Upset this orderly universe with a sulphurous subterranean upwelling split in the very planet itself, the continental divide where tectonic plates clash and volcanic mischief boils just beneath the surface of this bucolic landscape. Roiling steam clouds dot the forest where hellish fluids find their way to the surface from deep in the burbling bowels of the earth. Psychedelic rivulets of day-glow mineral water scorch the soil with their heavy burden of chemistry borne from unimaginable pathways where magma meets water. Through miles of tortured bedrock like a suppurating wound, vile liquids push to the surface with the titanic power of liquid rock under pressure. In this fiery caldera, we meander innocently quite oblivious of the mammoth power rumbling beneath our feet, visiting fumaroles that hiss like snakes, steam vents huffing like straining locomotives, boiling mudpots blanching the earth to sickly beiges churning the soil into dead , bleached apocalyptic wasteland. Yellowstone.
Posted on: Thu, 09 Oct 2014 02:53:58 +0000
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