It's everywhere. Everyone is talking about it.
The Great American eclipse.
Total eclipses of the sun are feared by many cultures, but not by mainstream Americans, who are currently (as I blog this) traveling to the closest spot that will experience totality.
My native New York is nowhere near the 70 mile wide band that will experience totality. In fact, we would have to travel almost 800 miles to see totality. Lucky us.
The only eclipse we will get to see here is Eclipse Tools. Actually, we will experience about 75% totality where I live. Unfortunately, not much happens with 75% totality.
Seriously, why would anyone travel 800 miles to see an eclipse? Well, I've done it twice in my life. In fact, one time, I traveled nearly 1800 miles to see an eclipse (Wichita, Kansas, where I lived at the time, to just outside Portland, Oregon, in February of 1979.) And, for my first one, I traveled some 500 miles, from New York City to the campus of Eastern Carolina University in North Carolina, in March of 1970. I was in high school then, and I will never forget what I saw.
How do words describe such total awe?
The sky darkening. A sunset effect in the west. Birds who stop singing. A wind blowing, and it suddenly getting cold as a shadow sweeps across you.
I think that is what I remember the most from 1970 (the 1979 eclipse was spent frantically driving, trying to outrun clouds enveloping Portland and the general area around it, and we had to pull off the highway just before totality occurred. Not recommended.) The moonshadow and the quality of the remaining light, which is like nothing you have ever seen before. The sun disappears and a curtain comes down before you.
The memory can still make me weep.
This is a nice description of what you will see if you are so lucky.
There's more. The diamond ring of the sun in the last seconds before the eclipse becomes total. And then, totality, the only time you can look at the sun without protection. Heed those warnings, dear readers, if you want to have operational eyes after the eclipse is over.
No wonder many cultures think the world is about to end, and still fear the eclipse.
There are no words to describe totality. Only feelings. Only...something that I would travel and suffer for, to see once again before I die.
Thank the sun (well really, the moon), while you are at it, and be grateful for the opportunity. Record every moment in your mind.
I won't be taking pictures tomorrow - I don't have the proper equipment, and I don't want to be distracted. But I may try to document what I do see.
And maybe, later this week, I'll be able to show you "something".
Don't fear the eclipse tomorrow. Celebrate it.
I will.
Welcome! I hope I bring a spot of calm and happiness into these uncertain times. I blog about my photography adventures, flowers, gardening, the importance of chocolate in a well lived life, or anything else on my mind.
Sunday, August 20, 2017
4 comments:
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I remember an eclipse when I was a kid and making one of those boxes to view it. It failed to impress me. Yeah, I know. We'll be indoors tomorrow, 80% eclipse but chance of rain.
ReplyDeleteWe aren't near the band either in LA, but I love your description of what will happen and that's so cool you traveled so far to see the eclipse before to fully experience it.
ReplyDeleteWe, too, are outside the total eclipse zone. We're expected to be at about 50% here in Southeast Texas. Even that should be memorable.
ReplyDeleteMy father is taking his yearly trip just to be in the path of totality. One day I'd like to experience it, but alas, not this year. In LA we're only getting 62%.
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