What a powerful experience

In 2017, during the previous Path of Totality,

I was still working at the hospital.

(And, yes, it does feel like that long ago!)

We watched as we could, in between answering pagers and taking phone calls,

and, while I remember it as being "out of the ordinary", is was, ultimately,

just a welcomed interruption in a day of the usual chaos. 

This time felt decidedly different;

not only because it will be my last eclipse,

but because as I get closer to the final mystery (death)

glimpses of natural, uncontrollable, breathtaking events 

interest me more.

A few posts ago, I mentioned that we scored the perfect setting for our viewing -

an art museum with trails and sculpture gardens, 

a lake, food trucks, a band and

clean bathrooms!

So, we drove 75" east and south to join a 'sold out' crowd of 200.

(Many thanks to Cedarhurst staff 

for realizing how many people 

your grounds can accommodate

without ruining the ambience of the experience.)

 

Some folks just couldn't resist the cosplay opportunities 

an eclipse provides

and, since it was my friends birthday, 

we pretended it was all a celebration of her

and went with the flow.

Group conversations, the band music etc kept up at a usual pace,

until about halfway through the eclipse.

As the light faded, conversations grew softer, in more hushed tones,

the band ceased their playing and

people settled in place, 

with glasses/eyes turned skyward.

The whole setting seemed muted and more serene.

As totality was achieved, you heard the occasional "Oh my God",

but generally there was 4 minutes of near total silence.

As the moon passed by and the light of the sun was returning, 

there were pockets of muffled clapping or cheers from the kids but,

by and large, the adults were still in a reverential space.

It occurred to me what a truly remarkable event this was:

not only did millions of people believe what scientists predicted,

they took time out of their lives 

and traveled to get to the best spot to see something so extraordinary.

Nobody was arguing that it wasn't going to happen, 

nobody falling down a rabbit hole 

that the moon would collide with the sun and destroy the earth;

no one postulating that this was a hoax of the deep state

or "put on" for the benefit of one political party or the other.

In the heart of rural America,

millions of people demonstrated a faith in science

and wanted to experience something with their friends or families

 that was beyond their control; 

something that was a reminder that human beings 

are an extremely small part of something infinitely larger

than ourselves.

The lake before, during, at totality and as the light was returning.

Many of my thoughts from that day have stayed with me.

I'm SO grateful to have had the chance to experience it 

in the manner and place I did.