Parícutin: the volcano that was born in a Mexican farmer's cornfield

Imagine heading out to work your field on an ordinary afternoon and watching the ground start to smoke, crack open and spit out rocks. That is exactly what happened to Dionisio Pulido, a Purépecha farmer in Michoacán, Mexico. On that afternoon in 1943 he witnessed something almost no human had ever seen in such detail: the birth of a volcano.

The afternoon of February 20, 1943

Dionisio Pulido was preparing his plot near the village of Parícutin for planting. According to accounts gathered afterward, he noticed that in a small hollow in the land, one he had known all his life, the ground was swelling and splitting. Then came smoke, a strong smell of sulfur and a low rumbling. Frightened, Pulido ran to the village to raise the alarm.

In the preceding weeks, residents had felt tremors and heard underground noises. Nobody imagined what was coming. By the next day, where the crack had been, there stood a mound of ash and volcanic rock dozens of meters high.

Astonishing growth

The volcano grew at an incredible pace. Scientific sources agree that within its first year it rose more than 300 meters above the cornfield. By the time its activity ended, it stood about 424 meters above the original ground, with a summit that today sits at roughly 2,800 meters above sea level.

Parícutin is a cinder cone: a type of volcano that forms when lava is thrown out as fragments that cool in the air and pile up around the vent. It belongs to the Michoacán-Guanajuato volcanic field, a region with hundreds of small volcanoes of this kind. Most of them are «monogenetic»: they are born, erupt for a period and then go quiet forever.

Nine years of eruption

Parícutin’s activity lasted about nine years, until 1952. During that time, rivers of lava crept slowly across the valley. The residents of Parícutin and the neighboring town of San Juan Parangaricutiro had to abandon their homes. Both places were buried under rock.

The best-known image of that disaster is the one left at San Juan Parangaricutiro: lava covered almost the entire town, but the tower and part of the facade of its church were left sticking out of the black rock. Today it is one of the most photographed landscapes in Michoacán, and many visitors hike or ride horses across the lava to reach it.

Because the lava advanced slowly, people had time to evacuate, and no deaths are attributed to it directly. Sources usually mention three people killed by lightning generated during ashfall. Even so, the ash ruined crops, forests and pastures across a wide area, and thousands of people lost their livelihoods. The residents of San Juan founded a new town, Nuevo San Juan Parangaricutiro, which still exists.

A laboratory for science

Parícutin was an unexpected gift for volcanologists. It was the first time modern science could study a volcano from its birth to its extinction. Mexican and American geologists set up camps, measured its height, analyzed its lava and gases and documented every phase. Much of what is known today about cinder cones was learned there.

It drew artists too. The Mexican painter Gerardo Murillo, known as Dr. Atl and passionate about volcanoes, spent long stretches near Parícutin, painting it and writing about it.

A natural wonder

In 1997, CNN included Parícutin on its list of the Seven Natural Wonders of the World, alongside places such as the Grand Canyon and Mount Everest. It is not the tallest or the most dangerous volcano, but it is one of the few whose birth was witnessed by a human being.

Visiting today

Parícutin has been inactive since 1952. Visits start from Angahuan, a nearby Purépecha community, where local guides offer tours on foot or on horseback. The climb to the summit is demanding because of the loose ash and the altitude, but the views from the crater and the landscape of hardened lava make it worthwhile. The ruins of the San Juan church are a shorter, easier outing.

Could another volcano be born like this?

Yes. Many volcanoes of this kind have formed in the Michoacán-Guanajuato volcanic field over thousands of years, and another one, Jorullo, was born in the same region in 1759. Scientists consider it possible that a new one will appear in the future, though no one can predict when or where. That is why the area is monitored.

The lesson of the cornfield

Dionisio Pulido’s story reminds us that the Earth is alive. Enormous forces move beneath our feet, and sometimes, without asking permission, they break through to the surface in the most unexpected place: a quiet field of corn.

Rolf Cosar / Wikimedia Commons (CC BY 3.0) · source