A tongue of lava oozes out from beneath the recently cooled crust of a flow. The silica contained within, reflects the early morning sunlight, giving its surface a glassy sheen.
Photo and caption credit: Bruce Omori
i want to touch it but i would die
You could poke it with a stick.
i wanT TO TOUCH IT
My heart is pierced by cupid, I disdain all glittering gold,
There is nothing that can console me, but my jolly sailor bold.