The latest USGS timelapse of Kīlauea stitches Episodes 34, 35, and 36 into a single, jaw-dropping reel that reminds us nature answers to no ideology. Cameras stationed around Halemaʻumaʻu captured fountains that rose and fell like the raw, unfiltered heartbeat of the American landscape, and at one point the heat actually overwhelmed a nearer camera which had to be replaced. This is science and vigilance in action — not the panic-driven theater too often sponsored by coastal elites.
Episode 34 erupted on October 1, 2025, producing inclined fountains from the north vent and vertical jets from the south that showered tephra across the crater floor during a roughly six-hour event. USGS monitoring shows that episode released on the order of millions of cubic meters of lava, a sober reminder that the people of Hawaiʻi live with raw geological power every day. Those facts are not rhetorical flourishes — they are the measured observations of our nation’s top volcanologists documenting a slow, unfolding natural drama.
Episode 35 — on October 17–18, 2025 — pushed the eruption to new extremes, with the south vent producing the tallest fountain recorded in this eruption, estimated near 1,475 feet. The intensity of that event damaged shore-near camera equipment and even broke solar panels on some monitoring stations, showing that frontline scientific teams often bear physical costs so the rest of us can be warned and protected. That kind of work deserves respect, funding, and more common-sense support from Washington than the hollow virtue signals of bureaucrats who never get their hands dirty.
Episode 36 on November 9, 2025, was short but furious, erupting roughly 8.1 million cubic meters of lava in about five hours and producing some of the highest effusion rates recorded for this event. USGS observations also note that the tephra pile on the crater rim grew by an estimated 30 feet during that single episode, and pumice-like Pele’s hair fell as far away as Pāhala under the right wind conditions. These are not just pretty images for tourists; they are operational details that influence road closures, public safety advisories, and the livelihoods of island residents.
Let’s be clear: the USGS teams and Hawaiʻi Volcanoes National Park staff who maintain cameras, dig out buried sensors, and replace damaged equipment are doing patriotic work. They protect communities, support honest science, and keep the public informed while left-wing alarmists chase clicks with doom-laden headlines. Americans who actually live and work near these hazards deserve public officials who prioritize practical preparedness and funding for robust monitoring — not virtue signaling or paperwork that slows down real safety measures.
This eruption also exposes a recurring national lesson: nature will always outmatch political theater, and when it does we need boots on the ground, not hot takes on cable TV. Local businesses that rely on tourism must be allowed to rebuild and adapt without being strangled by overbearing federal red tape that pretends to protect while it only punishes. Invest in resilient infrastructure, support the scientists and first responders, and trust the people of Hawaiʻi to recover with strength and dignity.
Americans should watch that timelapse and feel pride — pride in our scientists who record and interpret this power, pride in local communities who endure and adapt, and pride in a country that still values practical competence over performative politics. If Washington wants to prove it cares, it will fund what actually works: monitoring, civil defense, local recovery, and common-sense land and road management that keeps citizens safe while letting them earn an honest living.
