to find the summit, cloud rolling in, the blue streak of the sea and horizon a floating balance line against the broken slope. Four hours up to the crater, five hours down, hurting. Lunch in the high atmosphere, island slabs in the ocean, beers and biscuits down in the warden’s office, licking wounds. The volcano visited. Another glimpse of the secret energies, the planet’s pathways and the torrents that drive us on to make, go and see.
