Monday, August 20, 2012

Sunday in the Park with Geysers

Sunday Aug 12 Early Afternoon

I reviewed the videos I shot of the geysers and delete a few. I take a few still photos with my camera of the radiator and of the basin. I'm feeling a little better and decide to risk a little bit of chocolate ice cream fro the snack bar.

Then I take a nap, which is an accomplishment given how much noise there is seeping around our windows. Busses pull up with hissing air breaks; garbage trucks beeep-beeep-beeep over the clank of metal trash bins being hoisted and banged about; someone's small dogs are yapping; and it must be just past lunch time because several infants have loud melt-downs. Beneath the punctuations of sound is the ocean-like murmur of hundreds of conversations.

When I wake up, the feeling that I've eaten a Deadly Red Pepper has returned. Bother. Now the question becomes, what exactly is causing the frequent runs to the men's room?

I went for a walk to see River Geser blow and on he way back, I walked by Sawmill Geyser. It was thruming and sending spouts of water up into the air. Then it stopped. I thought it was a pause, but then the water swirled around the rim of Sawmill's cauldera, and drained down the central pipe of stone. Thin vapour poured up the pipe, but otherwise, the geyser was dry.

It was like the withdrawal of some churning spirit.

Later, walking back to the lodge, some ravens played in a parking lot. I thought I'd try to photograph one. As I was doing so, a woman came up and started talking at them, accusing them of finding and eating garbage. Which she began to pick up. Which made me feel a little like a stupid tourist, so I helped her pick up the wrappers, paper bits, and shiney foil I'd failed to see.

11:19 PM

As we lay in bed trying to fall asleep, some Very Loud Brits began a Lightly Drunken Conversation on the benches two stories below our window. These were not Masterpiece Theatre Subjects of Victoria, nor were they incarnations of Mr. Darcey.
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