♨️ Steam in the Hills

The road turned to gravel. Then to dirt. Then to nothing. Steam hissed from the rocks. No signs. No fences. Just heat. Curious horses watched, sheep bleated, and ducked squawked their objections to our intrusion into their solitude. We found a path that led to a hidden pool in the middle of the pasture. Quiet. Wild. We stripped down. Slid into the water. It burned. Then it healed. The wind howled. The earth breathed. We stayed until our fingers wrinkled.

Later, we went to the Blue Lagoon. It was different. Big. Clean. Very Commercial. Tourists floated like ghosts in pale water. I remember thinking that I hope this is not some nuclear waste byproduct. Steam curled around faces. It was beautiful. But not wild. We liked both. One for the silence. One for the ritual, but I’ll take the wild side any day!