The year's big event is over and done. While some of the meteorologists were concerned about the weather getting rough (it IS April, after all) conditions were pretty good, with only some scattered clouds to interfere with photography. Indeed, this is going to be the only decent day of the week for skygazing; it rained yesterday, and rain is forecast off and on for the rest of the week. In true RagingMoon1987-fashion I dragged Idalia Gale along with me, and we shared my goofy-looking specs.
By the way, I find it interesting that I've experienced two major solar eclipses now, and they both occurred on a Monday. In 2017 Malden was out of the path of totality, so I snapped a few pictures of shadows and took a nap. This time...oh, it was wild. KAIT announced at one o'clock that the eclipse was starting, so out the south door I went...to be greeted by people. Five in all. They'd spent the morning in and out of the library and were very nice.
The gentleman in orange is getting his doctorate in astronomy or some related field, and he is attending school in Utah. The woman in the hat, leaning against the light pole, is from Athens, Georgia. In the red chair is another woman; she is the mother of Orange Shirt and came all the way from Wisconsin. She had some beautiful aurora borealis pictures on her cell phone. Upon being invited to look through a telescope, I joined them, introducing myself as "the town eccentric." I had Idalia Gale in my arms, so I'm pretty sure they believed me.
Orange Shirt's father brought a colander with him, and we were able to see how the shadows changed. This is how they looked at 1:14...
...and at 1:23...
...at 1:30...
...at 1:38...
...and at 1:43.
Here's the group from Wisconsin, colander and all. They were a lovely bunch.
Here the man from Wisconsin is looking through the other family's telescope.
Yes, the telescope. It had a special filter and was safe to look through. This couple from Georgia brought it. I was able to get their names, Rhett and Diana. They too were lovely folks.
One more picture of the colander's shadows. They were getting teeny-weeny at this point (time check was 1:49). I regrettably could not get any pictures of the sun, even through my glasses or through Mr. Wisconsin's welder's shield (he'd brought one). The sun was glorious to behold.
Here we see Mr. Wisconsin and his son goggling at the shadows, which were wavering like heat radiating off a hot surface on a summer's day (
EDIT, 12/14/24: I've learned that this wavering is
shadow bands). That admittedly was pretty darn awesome. However, my attention was drawn to the western horizon, which was beginning to look ominous. A cool breeze was also beginning to blow, and since it had been quite warm the breeze felt great.
1:56. Gettin' dark!
Here it's possible to see how the sun still shines, but the moon's shadow is fast approaching from the west.
Totality occurred at 1:57, give or take, and it came down like a tidal wave. I regrettably could not photograph the fabled
diamond ring, but it was one of the most beautiful things I'd ever seen. It was surreal, how the horizon was light, the sky immediately above us was dark, and the sun gleamed like a luminous ring around the moon. Here's what the horizon looked like.
I was able to get one picture of the whole shebang through Rhett's telescope. The pink blur at the bottom is a huge solar flare, which was drop-dead gorgeous when viewed with naked eyes.
I also was able to get...well, a passable picture without help from the telescope. Venus and a few other planets were visible during totality.
And then it was over. Totality lasted...oh, three minutes, tops, but what a glorious three minutes it was. We all whooped and clapped and cheered like a bunch of fools as the sky went dark, and...gosh, I can't describe how much fun it was! I think Idalia had fun too. Or I can pretend she did, LOL.
This truly was a once-in-a-lifetime event and I had a mile-wide smile on my face (and a full bladder) at the end of it all. The next total eclipse in the U.S. won't be until 2033, and Alaska will be the only ones in the States to see it. Fine by me; Alaska deserves to see neat stuff like that too. There will be two more in 2044 and 2045, but the 2044 event will be for northeastern Montana and extreme western North Dakota. The eclipse in 2045 will go well south of Missouri; I doubt my sister will still be living in Fayetteville by then, but if she is she and Brother-in-Law will have a ringside seat. So unless I fancy a road trip this was my last chance to see a total solar eclipse, and I'm so glad I took the opportunity to do it! Hmmm...now what to look forward to? Oh well, as buddy Xanadu once said, I'll find something fun to do! The last time I griped about things getting dull around here, Sandy McCall materialized on my front porch! So we'll see. I owe a debt of gratitude to Rhett and Diana for letting me use their telescope, and to the folks from Wisconsin for just being all-around fun. I regrettably did not get their names. But this was a helluva lot of fun for me, and it ranks high on my "Coolest things I've ever seen" list, along with Comet Hale-Bopp, Lake Norfolk, and Night of the Butterflies.
And to those of y'all who fancy a listen, here's "Black Hole Sun." A deceased friend of mine really liked that song, and I think of him whenever I hear it. Or if you want something older, here's Pink Floyd and "Eclipse." Ah, Dark Side of the Moon was about as close to perfect as an album can get, and "Eclipse" was a humdinger of a finisher!
Love and sunshine,
RagingMoon1987