Elsa’s bedroom was the ‘room-in-the-roof’. One clear night, shortly after she had gone to bed, she sat bolt upright.
The moon had turned blue.
She rushed downstairs. ‘Mummy, there’s a big blue eye in the sky! Come and see!’
I followed her upstairs. Sure enough, the moon had turned the colour of a summer sky.
‘Elsa. You must close your eyes and make a wish without telling me.’
She covered her eyes for five seconds. ‘Done it.’
She looked so serene.
How do you tell a five-year-old there’s been an eruption in Iceland and the dust had made that illusion?