Geysers in Yellowstone always capture my fascination. Standing next to active volcanic activity is stunning. You never know what the ground will do. Bison seem to inherently know where they can stand or not…some of the ground is concrete like while others is thin…just covering superheated water. The Bison know where to go…for me, I’ll stay on the train. More than a few have been boiled to death by falling into these geysers or falling through the thin crust. One of my favorite sights? Paint and mud pots. They are a mesmerizing thing to watch. The still cold air is occasionally disturbed by the wet plop of an exploding bubble. There’s always a sense of urgency to the geysers…even when they are sullenly quiet. They can go from nearly silentto active at the drop of a hat. Near the geysers are trees coated with interesting frost designs. The steam rolls off the geysers and quickly freezes on nearby trees. I’ve never seen anything like it anywhere else. The stark majesty of this place always awes me. I just love this. God is an artist for sure. Nearor far…you can see you’re in a giant volcanoe. The evidence of life’s struggle to hang on is everywhere. As strong and able to adapt as these trees are they don’t always win the struggle. This is a land of fire and ice. Steam can bring up elements to create a deadly gas, eruptions can spontaneously eruptbut the danger reaches out and draws you in. You cannot look awayand I’m always hesitant to leave. What if I turn away and miss something? Time to move on like it or not. I’m left with the ironic glimpse of green in this place. Life and death, heat and cold…grass and Bison poop.