Point of view

I was riding across the lake the other day and both Mt. Baker to my north and Rainier to my south were out in all their glory. It was a magnificent sight. (Okay, sights, since I had to turn my head to see each in turn.)

I got to thinking about the potential for an eruption. Based on sedimentary evidence of previous pyroclastic flows, either mountain could spawn a doozy. I give way occasionally to a low grade nervousness about it, the way you occasionally worry about a lightning strike. Not likely, but still…

And then, in the way one’s mind wanders when riding the bus with a finished book and stunning mountains within view, I got to thinking about the frequency of eruptions. I found myself wondering what a film of our volcanoes would look like from a more geologic point of view.

I decided that western Washington, viewed from high above and speeded up a gadzillion times, might most resemble a coffee percolator. Or perhaps thick soup just coming to a simmer.

It was a cool thought.

And then I noticed the teenager across from me and thought of geologic acne and the whole thing was ruined in a single pop.

Not every bus ride flight of fancy makes it to cruising altitude.