This is a place for me to capture thoughts, ideas, snippets of this and bits of that, that don't seem to lend themselves to one of the more traditional item types.
When I read the word in the book, I got the basic meaning from context, but looked it up anyway. Concurrently, there was that nagging feeling that I'd just seen the word here on WDC, so a writing-time-killing search ensued. I kind of hope I remember / run across the site source, or that whole precognition thing that swept the Newsfeed a while back could present itself as an option...and that's just a bit spooky.
A quick Google search produced this (which is pretty much what KÃ¥re Enga in Montana said):
"Lahar is an Indonesian word describing a mudflow or debris flow that originates on the slopes of a volcano. Small debris flows are common in the Cascades, where they form during periods of heavy rainfall, rapid snow melt, and by shallow landsliding."
I'm with Robert Waltz. I don't have to learn anything else today .
Kare is probably correct. But if it was a newer post, it's possible someone was reading the same book, and decided to use their fancy new word.
Not gonna lie, I do it fairly regularly to reinforce how to use the word. This may shock some readers to their very core, but I do learn new words outside of the 'awesome swears they make up in Quebec' vocabulary.
Lahar... a word remembered from my college course in vulcanolgy. But I looked it up anyways: A pyroclastic flow is an avalanche-like cloud that is a mixture of air, hot ash, and pumice lapilli. A lahar is a very wet, ash-rich debris flow that moves in a relatively fast-moving slurry. If I remember right there were areas of the west side of Cartago in Costa Rica destroyed by lahars. Ash and tropical rains = problems.
As for here... no clue. I checked my two old blogs and elsewhere. Nothing.
You didn't 'think/see' Kalahari by any chance... it has lahar in it and comes up on searches.
Our first Christmas tree, a table-top tree
had tinsel and ornaments small.
Each one set in place at deliberate pace.
I watched my love work from the hall.
Each year something new, as our family grew,
little pictures and drawings from school.
Smiling faces all 'round, hearts with love still abound,
a passion the years cannot cool.
This Christmas we'll see, just what kind of tree
will make its way into our home.
No wreath will she place, no smile on her face:
She is gone, and I am alone.
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