Bison and Steam

Today I hiked in Yellowstone National Park, the first of two wilderness destinations.  I say "wilderness" of a place where busloads of tourists stop at popular picture spots like Old Faithful.  I avoided these places today and will skirt around them tomorrow and the rest of my five days here.  Once parked at the trailhead, I saw no one.

Before sunrise, along the Madison River, big animals are thinking breakfast.

Elk and bison graze in morning meadows.

Then in the distance plumes rise in what look like campfires.  But coming closer, I see they are not smoke, but steam. 

Sulfur fills my nose as bubbling pots tickle my ears like some great feast being prepared.  I feel a rumble under my feet. Mysterious plumbing down there. Occasionally a splash of hot water spurts up.  

Yellowstone is the world’s first national park.  It is the largest in the lower 48 states.  New geysers erupt.  Hot springs suddenly stop flowing.  Old faithful is not so faithful anymore.  Thermal features may be anywhere, under your feet, I hear them, feel them burgling.  Old ones dry up; new ones break through the crust.  I absorb the smells, colors and sounds, feel the steam and the smell of sulfur.  I want more.