As Irma barrels towards Florida with Jose right on her heels, and Katia wanders around in the Gulf Of Mexico,
the weather has pretty much consumed all my attention here lately. My dad would be so proud. He was the original weatherholic. He'd track all the tropical depressions, storms, and hurricanes every year. Starting when I was about 9 or 10, he'd get me my own little tracking chart, so I could track them, too. We did that every year, until I decided I was too old for such things.
This was waaaay back in the stone age before the internet and The Weather Channel. You know, back when dinosaurs still roamed the earth.
I'd like to take a moment from this dire situation and tell you about my trip to watch the eclipse.
I know, I know...finally! A lot has been going on these last couple of weeks, but the post is going up today!
It was some time last year when I first heard there would be a total eclipse. As soon as I was able, I put in for a day off of work, so I could watch it. In reality, I'd just planned on staying here to watch it, since we would be at 90% totality. Close enough, I figured.
However, when I jokingly posted on Facebook about how the path of totality was just a short drive away, my friend Peggy immediately said, "You can come watch it with me!" A hotel reservation and boarding arrangements for the dogs and I was all set to go.
Oh, and an insane amount of road trip snacks, none of which could even be remotely considered healthy.
I left right after work on Sunday -- and I'll have more about the trip itself in another post. I made it to the hotel in Sikeston, MO around 7ish that evening. The next day, I drove the rest of the way up to Jackson and met up with Peggy and her husband Ed.
We drove to a park there in Jackson to watch the actual eclipse. There was a big event at the South end of the park, so we went to the North end. I was worried that it would be crowded, but it was just us and two other families.
We talked, and we visited, and Peggy and I knit, and Ed walked down to see the new sidewalk they'd poured, and we ate a picnic lunch.
And Peggy wore her Texas hat
and I wore my Navy Veteran cap, and Ed took a picture of us together eating,
and another picture of us watching the moon's shadow slowly creep across the face of the sun.
I caught Peggy looking at my legs, and cautioned her to put her eclipse glasses on before doing that. Because they're blindingly white.
We oooed and ahhed over the crescent shaped shadows the tree leaves were casting.
As the moon covered more and more of the sun, we sat enraptured at the wonder that was going on around us. We were both amazed that even though only a tiny little sliver of sun was left uncovered, it was still bright daylight. Granted, it was early morning/late evening type of daylight, but it was still bright. "That's the power of the sun," Peggy remarked.
Finally, the last bit of the sun was completely covered. I heard a distant cheer from the South end of the park. Then we all took our eclipse glasses off, and spontaneously, yet in near perfect unison, everyone in the park gasped in amazement, and said, "Oh, wow!"
Trust me, if you've never seen a total eclipse, you need to at some point in your life. It is the most amazing thing. Peggy took this picture of the sun's corona, which I shamelessly stole from her Facebook page.
This is her picture, also, of the artificial twilight.
I was too enraptured to even think about taking pictures. I mean, the stars were out in the middle of the day!
All too soon, there was a bright spot of sunlight showing, as the moon continued it's trek across the sun. Back on went the eclipse glasses, and the day became bright again.
Then it got hot again.
Peggy said, "Let's go back home and sit in the air conditioning." So we did. We talked, and laughed, and visited some more, until I was ready to go back to the hotel. And many bitter tears were shed at our parting.
We've already made plans to watch the next one -- April 8, 2024. Good Lord willing and the creek don't rise, I'll be there.
Want to join me?
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