Waw an Namus is a volcano deep in the Libyan Sahara, in the Fezzan 400 kilometres from the nearest town, whose crater four kilometres across holds three small salt lakes of different colours around a cinder cone, and whose black ash lies over 300 square kilometres of desert, so that after hours of pale sand the ground turns black and the tyres go quiet, and it is reached by expedition and camped in, when the country allows it. Nobody can say when the volcano last erupted, since no one recorded it and the ash is undated, and the caldera holds a cone of loose scoria in its middle with a pit eighty metres deep sunk into its own summit, a small volcano built inside the wreckage of a much larger one, climbed for the view over the lakes; three lakes lie curled around the foot of the cone and no two match, one blue, one green and one a rust-red pool half hidden in a thick collar of reed grass against the inner wall, the sharpest colour in the crater on ground as black as this. The lakes lose around 1.5 million cubic metres of water a year to the Saharan sun and are still full, fed by an aquifer beneath the crater that the geologists have not fully explained.
The name means the oasis of mosquitoes, for the insects that breed in the reeds, and the crater is a wetland in the driest desert on Earth, where waterbirds from Europe winter on a third of a square kilometre of water, northern shoveler, teal, gadwall, coot and little grebe recorded in the reed beds, palms and tamarisks standing at the shore. The drive in from Sebha takes two days across the sand with a guide, and the crater is camped in under a sky with no light for hundreds of kilometres, the black ash cold at night. Waw an Namus is a volcano with an oasis in its mouth, and the birds of the north have found it.