I like the part that, for a couple of hours at least, I got to be reminded that we are tiny little organisms in a great big solar system where celestial events happen in spite of any sort of human activity whatsoever. And it was cool to be able to see the moon moving in front of the sun in real time.
All that was mitigated slightly by the hyping of the “Great American Eclipse” as if somehow the US of A is special just because a swath of the country fell into the “zone of totality.” But, I guess if there’s money to be made, why the hell not?
The most visually interesting part of the event, for me, was the way we got little crescent shadows through the leaves and the curtains; tiny pinhole cameras abound. Also, though it may have been my imagination, it did seem cooler when the peak of the event occurred.
The problem now that it’s over is what to do? For a little while this morning, I got to pretend that it mattered what I did, even if that was just being an observer of an unusual event. Now, I’m faced with the difficulty of making meaning in a meaningless universe again; too bad there isn’t a lunar eclipse to look forward to in half a month.
Also, what are we going to do with all these eclipse-viewing glasses? I suppose I could hang onto them until 2024, when an eclipse next visits the US; perhaps they’ll be “vintage” by then and will command a premium price. In all likelihood, however, they will go into the kitchen “junk drawer” where they will languish until I experience a fit of cleaning frenzy and toss them in the trash, probably around next summer.
That sort of activity may not be as predictable as the transit of the moon across our star, but based on well-known cycles of activity, it’s a sure thing.
All that was mitigated slightly by the hyping of the “Great American Eclipse” as if somehow the US of A is special just because a swath of the country fell into the “zone of totality.” But, I guess if there’s money to be made, why the hell not?
The most visually interesting part of the event, for me, was the way we got little crescent shadows through the leaves and the curtains; tiny pinhole cameras abound. Also, though it may have been my imagination, it did seem cooler when the peak of the event occurred.
The problem now that it’s over is what to do? For a little while this morning, I got to pretend that it mattered what I did, even if that was just being an observer of an unusual event. Now, I’m faced with the difficulty of making meaning in a meaningless universe again; too bad there isn’t a lunar eclipse to look forward to in half a month.
Also, what are we going to do with all these eclipse-viewing glasses? I suppose I could hang onto them until 2024, when an eclipse next visits the US; perhaps they’ll be “vintage” by then and will command a premium price. In all likelihood, however, they will go into the kitchen “junk drawer” where they will languish until I experience a fit of cleaning frenzy and toss them in the trash, probably around next summer.
That sort of activity may not be as predictable as the transit of the moon across our star, but based on well-known cycles of activity, it’s a sure thing.
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