Indrid surely loves all manner of natural phenomenae. Whatever mother earth has to throw at us, Gaia in her cycle, what have you, is in the end so much more resoundingly frightening than anything leather-winged spooks, ghosts, beasties, banshees can conjure.
Beneath the lovely vistas, the geysers of the Great Yellowstone National Park in Wyoming a monster lies.
Did you know this?
When you were oooohing and aaaaahing at Old Faithful's punctual bursts, did you think about the river of molten rock far below that heats the water?
No. It's been a well-kept secret until quite recently that the world's most potentially dangerous volcano is also one of the United States's most popular national parks. The entirety, basically, of the park is sitting on a massive powderkeg.
One that if it were to blow, would theoretically make an asteroid hit look like a picnic.
There is prehistoric evidence many states away from Wyoming indicating that sometime in the not so distant past (in geological terms,) the Yellowstone Super Volcano did blow, and it killed countless flora and fauna then living on what would become North America.
The link in the title of this entry will take you to an article discussing recent ominous changes in the lovely western park. Vegetation dying from the steam that the geysers produce becoming hotter. Lake levels rising. Ominous swarms of mini-earthquakes.
The fun you miss if you don't read the news.
Indrid will keep an eye out for you wee ones, though.
Sleep tight. The moon is bright tonight, almost a joyous platinum lighting the sky near the roost.
Dream of the orange-red glow of magma like a diseased eye opening in the whorled face of a hideous sleeping giant, in the earth-as the geysers blow hotter, and the pines die, the bears choke.
Mother nature is in on the joke.
Oh, but I did say it was bedtime, didn't I?
Sleepy bye, kiddies.
Goo' night, wee ones.
