Seeing lava.

I sit to write this a few days after this extraoridinary event. I’ve spent those days wondering what words could possibly be used do describe such an event. I havenʻt thought of many. Fair warning, this one is picture heavy.

Silhouettes of 'ōhi'a backed by lava glow.

MP and I begin to see the glow of the lava from the car as we drive along the highway towards the summit of Kīlauea. The orange and black sky feels as though it could fall at any moment. Only the brightest stars shine through.

There are a lot of people walking the trail, beams of light shining from their forehead and hands. All have come to witness the unlimited creativity of Tūtū Pele.

Observers of the eruption at Kīlauea’s summit

We approach the viewing point and look over the edge. The entire crater is a lake of lava. There is a huge, spewing fountain of lava; we take guesses on how high we think it is. Individual lava bombs shoot out and fall in slow motion. They burst in light then fade to black as they cool. We can feel the heat and smell the sulfur in the air. The wind picks up and kicks basalt dust in our faces. The sound produced by the lava fountain is a terrifying drone, like an approaching cyclone. We imagined the glowing cracks of the lava lake as an endless sprawl of a massive city’s lights, as viewed from the eyes of a satellite.

Overlooking the lava fountain.

I recognize the power of living on an island still being built. Creation by destruction.

MP and an ‘ōhi'a in front of lava glowed billows of smoke.