After an afternoon sojourn around the important sites – a very quiet Old Faithful, visitor centre, gift shop – I arrived in the relentlessly wooden hotel lobby ready for the only night-time tour. “Steam, Stars and Winter Soundscapes” takes place in the eerie quiet under a clear moonlit sky, bouncing off the stark crisp white of the snow. In turn, the snow meets the heated volcanic rock around the geysers, which remain so warm that it never settles throughout a winter which gets as low as -15C. We sat in pitch black silence on the disconcertingly warm ground around the imaginatively named Black Sands Basin, the acidic blue of the water still visible in the dark, hearing the belly rumblings of the subterranean geyser, before it burps its 93C water into the night sky.

Talking of rumblings, there are two options for food: the quick-service Geyser Grill, or the Obsidian Dining Room, where an authentic 1970s experience is unintentionally guaranteed. I ordered a “sack lunch” for the following day. Having devoured pancakes the size of one of the geyser basins, I embarked on my first all-day tour. This took me up to the Continental Divide (the water flows into two different oceans) and around the West Thumb Geyser Basin, where the frozen lake was indistinguishable from the drifts.

Over the next few days, at an unseasonable 2C, the tours continued, all with relentlessly cheerful and knowledgeable guides. There is wildlife spotting: we were surrounded by herds of bison; approached by an overly friendly grouse; and swooped over by a bald eagle. It’s when I found myself a few steps behind my group, however, listening to the bubbling and convulsing springs, that the true alien stillness enveloped me. Winter allows for serenity, quiet beauty and introspection. The park still flows with life, but the isolation and tranquillity is absolute, acoustically buffered by thick snowdrifts.