Accumulation

Sitting at the riverside I observe the tiniest rubble of broken twigs and pebbles.

Rough rocks rolled the mountain top. Down, down picking up speed and friends along. Grassy patches slowed the herd down here and there, leaving some to nest in. Branches were crushed, twisted, and moved - physically and mentally. Bugs and beetles escaped for their tiny lives to all three-sixty sides. Trees got bent under the growing moving weight. Cliffs abandoned their mountain mother leaving in the direction down, down, down. People scattered too late in an awe admiration of an avalanche.