Here in the upper mid west, we will experience an eclipse on Monday afternoon. This will be the last total eclipse for North America in the 21 century. I have memories of eclipses. We were told not to look directly at the sun. Dark glasses or holes in cardboard could be used to reflect the shadow of the moon as it crossed the sun’s orbit. Pans of water were placed to catch the sun’s reflection. I don’t recall that any of these worked for me. What I remember is the changes in the backyard as the eclipse progressed.
First, the light slowly became dark, like twilight. Air cooled. The sky remained blue to the side of the sun. A corona outline was present where the sun had been. The light was different, A cover coming directly down over where I stood. The area was silent. Birds stopped their songs. I was scared, enthralled, knowing what was happening didn’t diminish the magic of the moment.
My husband, John was working outside on our farm during one such event. In addition to the temperature and light changes, the farm animals reacted by returning to the nests for the chickens. The cows started to walk to the milking barn. Birds became silent as they sat in their nests. After a brief silence, crickets commenced their evening song.
Other insects behavior changed. The honey bees, loaded with pollen, ate stored honey for a flight to escape danger. Ants emerged from holes carrying their eggs. The spiders in the barn started to destroy their webs.
One can only imagine what ancient people thought of this event. No wonder they produced noice, banging on drums and pots to chase away the moon shadow from hiding the light giving sun.
I no longer see the effects of this event, but I will feel the temperature drop. Hear the silence of the animals. Drinking it all in to recall and put to memory by writing about it.
Cookie Moon
cookie moon waits,
to play hide and seek,
behind big sister sun.
Awed, hold our breath.
for normality.
carolaspot@aol.com April 8, 2024
traveling up and down the blind highway 