He was six and we were late for school. The last bus was just pulling away as we walked hand in hand towards the front doors. A loud crack could be heard, along with the loud rumble that followed. At the first noise, we stopped walking and turned towards the mountain that was only 2 miles away.
He said, “Look Mom, see the cloud?”
I was watching too, and said, “Watch closely, the rocks are falling, can you see?”
“Wow, look at that,” he said in awe.
We watched as the entire corner of the basalt rock wall slowly avalanches to the valley below. A huge cloud of red dust had risen up slowly flying towards Heaven. He just kept repeating, “Wow!”
It was over in under 3 minutes, but as we watched in awe, we could clearly see the raw yellow colored section where the mountain had crumbled away. We learned later on that an earthquake had rocked the mountain, yet we hadn’t felt a thing.
We grinned at each other, and head into the school, his joy barely exceeding my own.