St. Helens has gotten all flirty in her autumn finery, wearing a fine new coat of whitest snow down her shoulders, wearing a trickling stream of snowmelt like a lavalier spilling down the cleavage of her crater. She flirts in and out of her clouds, sometimes gathering them closely, sometimes casting them off and wearing a simple plume of white steam rising from the cone of her growing lava plug. Light and shadow flatter her well, as do the luminous green highlights down along the Toutle River valley. She's a lovely lady who demands both admiration and respect.
You can tell I keep the VolcanoCam up on my terminal, can't you?
