Yellowstone, Redux – Castle Geyser Reflection

Castle Geyser Reflections © 2010 Bo Mackison

Castle Geyser is in the Old Faithful Complex of Yellowstone National Park, a half mile walk from the Old Faithful Inn. I say “walk” and not hike because the trail is paved for bikers and is wheelchair accessible. (2.4 miles worth of great scenery is accessible t0 all — I applaud the efforts of the National Park Service to make at least portions of the parks available to all who want to visit.)

Sounds busy, but on a mid-week day in October we nearly had the place to ourselves once we left Old Faithful’s crowds behind.

I thought Castle Geyser was quite lovely, but the dozen or so people I spoke with while I was gazing, enamored with this sinter cone, were quite peeved that this thermal formation wasn’t performing up to expectations. Seems Castle Geyser used to be one of the regular guys. It would erupt explosively every 13 hours, give or take a few minutes, spouting one hundred feet in the air, and then steam for 30 to 45 minutes. For its final act, it would emit what was described to me by another passerby as a “thrilling, contralto roar”.

I cannot verify any of those facts. Castle Geyser puffed prettily for me, steamy and hot, and dribbled bubbly water that overflowed the lip of the cone. But there was no massive eruption. No thrilling roar. Only evidence that something was amiss was the mysterious sign, hand-lettered by a park employee, saying, “Future eruptions–unreliable.”

As I was photographing this scene, several other shooters waved me on, telling me not to bother. Well, I quite liked this “unreliable” geyser, fashioned from geyserite parts, some that are a thousand years old. It did rather look like a medieval castle, partly under attack and in (unseen) flames, and its run-off provided a great reflection of a perfect October sky.

Maybe by now Castle Geyser has its internal plumbing fixed and it is once more spouting on schedule. Though I liked it fine the way it was.

Sunny Gingko

Sunny Gingko

Lonely gingko tree, sunbathing before the fall.

Photographed in Madison, Wisconsin.

Mist Shrouded Oak Savanna

Row of Oaks in Owen Conservation Park in Madison, Wisconsin

Mist Shrouded Oak Savanna

Moody. A contemplative space.

Black oaks, their looming figures stark against the swirling fog. Prairie grasses, nipped by frost, browned, brittle, curl at the feet of the giant trees.

An oak savanna.

“A savanna is generally defined as a plant community where trees are a component but where their density is ‘…so low that it allows grasses and other herbaceous vegetation to become the actual dominants of the community.'” (Curtis, The Vegetation of Wisconsin).

Photographed at Owen Conservation Park in Madison, Wisconsin.

Maple Leaves

Maple Leaves © 2010 Bo Mackison

Frost in the mornings now. Every morning the outside world has a frosty coating. Tiny crystals shimmer when the sunlight catches them just so. There are whisperings (or mutterings, take your pick) of snow in the forecast. I find this so hard to believe.Wintry weather here so soon?

Wasn’t it just last weekend that I was standing in my art booth, sweltering in the humidity, wondering how many 90˚ days in a row we’d had in Wisconsin?

A Walk in the Woods – Owen Conservation Park in Color

A Walk in the Woods © 2010 Bo Mackison

I think of this time of autumn — after most of the leaves have fallen, before the first snow falls — as a dull, colorless time of the year. This photograph proves me incorrect. Blue skies, a bit of yellow and green still on the bushes, and red fallen leaves mixed amongst the brown. Color all around. Just for the looking.

Photographed in Owen Conservation Park, Madison Wisconsin.