These high elevations have my stomach in knots but yet I keep climbing, hoping to reach the top of an over-exaggerated mountain. Today I traveled to the heart of the caldera and felt the churning of molten lava just two miles below my feet, and it was among this intriguing evidence of ancient processes that I realized our own obvious insignificance must coincide with our ability to disrupt the simplest cycles just by exhaling a breath of air. Volcanic rocks cut by water majestically cascade downward forming jagged walls and possessing secret hiding places fit for the wisest of wildlife. I am still not fully comfortable with new company, but I know what is good for me and the early days of summer are still awakening from their winter slumber. The smell of sulfur in the air is a scent I will most likely come to miss when my departure day does eventually arise. A foul odor indeed, but the spewing of sulfuric acid from the earth’s underground plumbing softens nervous tendencies I entertain when my mind is unable to be stimulated. It is all very confusing for me right now, but as I begin to settle in a little more each day, I can feel the excitement slowly fade while my most hated enemy, boredom, begins to surface.
May 29, 2001