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Where the Earth Leaks Heat
What can the surface of the land tell us about the energy beneath it, and what should we do with what we find?
A stripe of orange running across white ground is a temperature map drawn by living things — and the place it was photographed sits on one of the largest geothermal resources on Earth, permanently off-limits to anyone who wants to generate electricity from it.
Choose a path
- 01
Setting the stage
Project photograph 1 with no title and no caption. Most classes will name the park and the feature within seconds — let them, and say so. The question you are asking is not what the photograph is of. Ask the question below, take four or five answers, and do not confirm or correct any of them. Write the answers on the board.

An eruption is the loud part. The quiet part is the ground it stands on: snow lies across the whole basin and up to the treeline, but the low mound around the vent stays bare, because heat is reaching the surface there and nowhere else in the frame. The column is water and steam, thrown up and blown downwind. - 02
Engaging with the story
Show photographs 4 through 7 in order. Give students a specific job before you start. If the park came up in step 1, name it now and move on: Yellowstone National Park. Most will have heard of it. Very few will have connected it to energy.

Steam lifts off water hot enough to kill almost anything that falls in. The orange and brown bands in the foreground are microbial mats living in the cooler runoff. A lodgepole pine forest stands a few hundred meters away, entirely unbothered. 
Close in on the runoff apron. The mat is not a smooth sheet. Water spreading downhill has cut a branching network of channels, and each channel carries slightly different temperature and chemistry, which is why the browns and oranges shift from ridge to groove. 
A hot spring a short walk from the runoff channel. The throat drops away steeply and shifts from yellow-green to near black with depth. The rim carries the same orange mats, but here the water sits and cools slowly instead of running, and the result looks nothing like the channel. 
The white steps are travertine, calcium carbonate dropped out of the water as it cooled. The dead trees give you the scale, and they also give you the story. This ground was forest until hot mineral water arrived, killed the trees, and began burying what was left of them. - 03
Working the evidence
The core of the investigation. Students work in pairs on the handout, using the Observe, Reflect, Question structure the Library of Congress developed for reading primary sources. A photograph is a primary source, and this is how it is done. Put photograph 3 on screen and leave it there.

Hot water leaves a spring and runs downhill across white sinter. The bright orange stripe down the middle is not mineral. It is alive: mats of heat-loving microbes that survive only in a narrow band of temperature. The water is hottest in the channel and cools as it spreads, so the color of the ground is a rough map of temperature. - 04
Delving deeper
Now tell them what the orange is: living mats of heat-loving microbes, sorted along the cooling gradient, which makes the color of the ground a rough thermometer. Then hand out the data.
- 05
Reflecting and projecting
The claim, evidence and reasoning assignment. Two parts. Both appear on the student handout as Part A and Part B.
The evidence

An eruption is the loud part. The quiet part is the ground it stands on: snow lies across the whole basin and up to the treeline, but the low mound around the vent stays bare, because heat is reaching the surface there and nowhere else in the frame. The column is water and steam, thrown up and blown downwind.

Two different processes, side by side in one frame. The rust-and-orange floor under the shallow water is mat — living, and lumpy at a scale you can see without a lens. The pale gold rim standing proud of the water is not alive: it is mineral, dropped out of solution at the edge where the water is shallowest and cools and evaporates fastest. The island near the middle is the same rim closed into a ring.

Hot water leaves a spring and runs downhill across white sinter. The bright orange stripe down the middle is not mineral. It is alive: mats of heat-loving microbes that survive only in a narrow band of temperature. The water is hottest in the channel and cools as it spreads, so the color of the ground is a rough map of temperature.

Steam lifts off water hot enough to kill almost anything that falls in. The orange and brown bands in the foreground are microbial mats living in the cooler runoff. A lodgepole pine forest stands a few hundred meters away, entirely unbothered.

Close in on the runoff apron. The mat is not a smooth sheet. Water spreading downhill has cut a branching network of channels, and each channel carries slightly different temperature and chemistry, which is why the browns and oranges shift from ridge to groove.

A hot spring a short walk from the runoff channel. The throat drops away steeply and shifts from yellow-green to near black with depth. The rim carries the same orange mats, but here the water sits and cools slowly instead of running, and the result looks nothing like the channel.

The white steps are travertine, calcium carbonate dropped out of the water as it cooled. The dead trees give you the scale, and they also give you the story. This ground was forest until hot mineral water arrived, killed the trees, and began burying what was left of them.
Did you teach this?
Three questions, two minutes, and it shapes the next investigation we build.