The Elf, The Butterfly and The Geyser

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf took her butterfly, Rascal, out for a ride.  They flew through the forests of grass, over the canopies of clover and among the leaves of the tall trees.  As Etwas and Rascal soared several feet above the earth, Etwas thought it would be fun to go see a geyser.  Flying day and night for a week,  and stopping several times to ask directions from trolls, ogres and pixies, the pair finally arrived at Strokkur.

They circled around watching the water bubble and burble and rise and fall.  They circled closer and closer to the basin when the vapor exploded beneath them.  Soon a drenched Etwas and a soaked rascal were flying high in the air and out of control on the plume of the geyser.  Rascal's wings were waterlogged  and she couldn't fly.  Etwas' cheeks had never felt so refreshed.  They were pushed higher than either had ever flown before, separated and entirely unaerodynamic.  Down they came, Rascal floating down side to side and Etwas grinning through the arc of a steamy nose dive.

Finally, Etwas landed in the curly remaining hair of a balding human spectator and Rascal wafted gently onto his shoulder.  The human, who was already a little dandruffy, allowed the pair to dry out on his head and shoulder and even offered them a ride home in his rental car.

And ever since then, Etwas has often observed that the best tourists are family.