It isn't often we humans get to celebrate the Winter Solstice and a total eclipse of the moon on the same night. I heard it's been 374 years since the last occurance. Monday night, I made a decision when I came home from work.
I wasn't going to wait for the next time.
Around 11 that night, Gina and I hopped into the car for the short drive to Del Valle Regional Park. A shadow had eaten about a quarter of the moon's surface already, and I felt uneasy about the tiny orb's future as I watched it being swallowed by that shadow, inch by inch. We parked on the highest point of Del Valle Road, overlooking the lake and taking in the beautiful moonlight's reflection on the fingers of fog that gently dripped over the ridges of the small canyons below.
It was chilly, by California standards, maybe 44 outside as we sat in the car. I opened the sunroof and put the seats back, which gave us a front row, don't - even - have - to - turn - the - head view of the eclipse. We'd catnap for a few minutes, then look up at the shadow's progress. Knowing that our Earth created the shadow gave me a feeling of planetary dominance, but then I'm a 49er fan and even the slightest hint of dominance over any object gives me cause to rejoice. Sad, I know...
Back on topic. Gina dozed a bit longer than me, as I was captivated by the shadow that had almost completely covered the small, rock satellite. I watched as the last sliver of moonbeam was fading into a brown, translucent murk, listening to the unexpected sound of crickets outside, as well as blanketing up from the chilly wind that blew through the sunroof.
Suddenly, as if they had become unplugged, the crickets stopped chirping. All of them. The wind stopped. Stars appeared by the zillion as the moonlight was gone. Now the mood lighting of the galaxy, many galaxies in fact, had taken over the sky - as if in a conspiracy with this great shadow. There was no sound - not a cricket, coyote or one of the ubiquitous barn owls. Nothing. We wondered if there was something to the Wiccan beliefs of the solstice's significance. Not knowing better, I surmised that combined with this eclipse the solstice had special meaning this winter. I'd sure like to know more....
We watched the drama of the silent sky. The fog no longer glowed; in the darkness, it had grown bold and floated up the hill and over the car, and suddenly the eclipse was obscured. A quarter mile south, the sky was clear. But right where we sat, we fantasized about some great force working very hard to keep the eclipse from our view. I have fun making up stories, and this night might have spawned enough for a hundred campfires.
We watched until we could watch no more. I had to get up at 5:30 AM Tuesday morning, and it was 1:30 now. The shadow had not abated, though; we drove slowly home, taking advantage of turnouts to look for progress in the early morning sky. By the time we arrived home, the slightest sliver of white light brought a sigh of relief - the moon was back. We would not have to put our moon's photo on a milk carton after all with a "Have You Seen This Orb?" above the photo.
It wasn't Paul McCartney at the Super Bowl, or American Idol, or something about the Kardashians. But if you ever find yourself looking for a low cost evening during which you can witness one of the rarest natural phenomena available to the most casual observer, mark the next Winter Solstice / Total Lunar Eclipse event on your calendars (that's WS/TLE to you acronymiacs). Yeah, you may have to wait a little bit...but like a Giants World Series party it's worth the wait. See you out there next time!
No comments:
Post a Comment