A Thousand Words

AUTHOR'S NOTE: They say a picture is worth a thousand words.  Because of rain, I did not have a camera when the following took place, so this will have to do.  At the traditional exchange rate, you're actually getting a little bit of a bargain.  Just take my word for it.

***

July 11, 2012

For two days the clouds had just teased us; playful giants garbed in gauzy lace, crouching on our horizon, dodging or outrunning us as we sped across the salt flats of Utah.  In Salt Lake City they taunted us with a puff of cool breath in our faces as they peered over mountainous hiding places, like they were contemplating a dazzling display of sound and fury.  However, as we put the Great Salt Lake into our rearview mirror and headed into Idaho, they abandoned us, as if a vacationing family of four was beneath their interest.

But as we pulled into Yellowstone, the clouds gathered themselves and pounced, stabbing the ground with fluorescent blades and roaring their pleasure with a deep and throaty chuckle.  A stiff, cold wind hissed in the pines and spattering raindrops chased us into our room in the Old Faithful Inn.

Before we even started to settle in and admire the rustic redwood paneling of our room, we dashed to the window and threw it open to watch the trees kowtow to the wind and listen to the growl of thunder.  From our second story room we could see steam rising from across Upper Geyser Basin as each fountain waited for its turn to impress the park guests, but these geothermal wonders were unable to hold our attention against the gathering storm. 

The Old Faithful Geyser is different from any of its brothers.  Its eruptions can be predicted to within fifteen minutes, as opposed to several hours, days, or in some cases, years.  The park rangers told us that Old Faithful used to be even more predictable, but a couple of earthquakes over the last century caused it to mellow a bit, no longer sticking to so strict a timetable.  As the storm intensified outside, a thought germinated inside my mind…what would it be like to watch Old Faithful erupt in the middle of a thunderstorm?  I find ideas like this difficult to ignore and it wasn’t long before the idea blossomed into action.  I pulled on my coat and announced I was going outside. 

“What?!”  My younger daughter Meredith was incredulous.  Anneka, my sixteen-year-old, regarded me warily, as if my sudden bout of insanity might be a disease that could spread if I got too close.  But my wife Jenny seemed to understand, and almost expected it.  “Have fun!” she laughed. 

The raindrops crackled against my hood and stung my legs as I walked the 100 yards or so to the viewing decks.  Normally, the faux-wooden structures are groaning under the weight of hundreds of park guest waiting to view the latest eruption, but in the middle of the storm only a handful of us were foolish enough to be there now.  

The cauldron hissed and steamed and occasionally gurgled up a splash of boiling water.  The eruption could happen in a matter of minutes, or delay as long as a half an hour.  I could sense the rain starting to abate and I feared that what I came to see, this symphony of storm and steam, would fail to materialize.  Sure enough, the wind began to die and the rain slackened even more.  It seemed the thunderheads had tantalized us with the promise of a spectacular display, only to now impishly withdraw the offer.

But it turns out they had other things in mind.  Like a giantess daintily raising her skirt to step over a puddle, the clouds lifted off the horizon, and the setting sun peeked shyly through.  The small knot of people gasped and cooed as a rainbow appeared, as if growing out of the cauldron itself and arcing its way across the sky into the forest where pines waited with outstretched arms to catch it.  Gaining confidence, the setting sun smiled, drenching the forests, the spectators, and the steam in orange as the rainbow's hues deepened.  Unable to contain its own brightness, another rainbow spawned and began hovering over the first protectively.

Meanwhile, the cauldron frothed and bubbled, roaring, hissing, subsiding, as if it had decided to pick up the game of hide-and-seek that the storm had abandoned.  The few of us huddled on the deck cheered, urged, and groaned.  We laughed and joked together, a tiny family brought together by this potential masterpiece-in-process.

Old Faithful sputtered.  "She's teasing us now," said an elderly gentleman in khaki shorts and a Yellowstone sweatshirt.  "I bet the rainbows fade before she blows,"

"It'd be amazing if they didn't though," a young father with a child on his shoulders responded.  We all murmured in agreement.  We held our breath, but the geyser only belched lazily.

I glanced at the sky.  The gap between the sun and clouds had grown, and the storm was skipping gleefully to another part of the park.  It looked like the old man would be right.

But the cauldron gurgled again, spat, and then, suddenly, roared.  It spewed a stream of boiling water high into the sky, right on time.  The geyser threw steam into the arc of the double rainbow, an orange, glowing cloud.

Liking what it saw, the sun threw back its head and laughed, and the rainbow brightened, hardened, and crystallized into a perfect semi-circle of ruby, amber, garnet,  emerald, sapphire, and amethyst.  Even as the geyser reached its zenith, the wind diminished to a breath and the raindrops ceased, the sky flashed one last time and the storm chuckled its approval, crackling lightning down behind the glittering arch.

“Can you believe it?” we all gushed.  “The double rainbow!...wasn’t it amazing?...The sunset!...The geyser!...then the lightning!...”

 It’s times like this I find it easy to believe in God.  He was palpable here, a master artist using every color in his palette and every tool in his workshop, rolling up his sleeves for the sheer joy of creating something beautiful yet ephemeral for the delight of his sons and daughters.

Sometimes you just have to be willing to brave the storm and take a closer look.

***

AUTHOR'S NOTE (AGAIN):  No, I didn't make this up.  If these 1000 words aren't good enough and you really want to see a picture, go to this link:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/83252649@N04/7626482128/sizes/l/in/set-72157630704493958/

I'm the guy in the black coat to the right of the gentleman in the grey shirt.

Thank you to Matthew Gordon and flickr.com