Pump

A pump or a dial, I don't know. But this beautiful object glistened and steamed in the May sunshine on the rise behind the town of Hverager├░i today. It's obviously connected to the thermal hot spots that puff and bubble in this region, though what actual purpose it serves is beyond me.

I imagined a town Pump Man, a brawny hunk of muscle, coming out every day to turn the iron wheel clockwise, opening the geothermal taps for business. And geothermal energy is well utilized in Hverager├░i where hothouses grow our cucumbers, tomatos and roses all year round and the swimming pool steam bath smells of sulpher straight from the source. At some designated time of night, Pump Man would then walk with certainty back to the wheel and close the valves, containing again the intensity of heat and power that throbs eternally just beneath our island's crust.

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