The August 21 Solar eclipse has been a big deal for several
years in my world. Since I found out about it, say, three years ago or so.
Since then, the fever over it has only grown, but it is important to me
personally because it is happening on my birthday, and its path of totality
passes very close to my home town, Idaho Falls.
The plan was always to go to IF and be in the path of
totality. For two solid years I looked forward to spending a couple of days
with my sister & brother that live there and being there to experience the
full thing. Then, news from the City Counsel: they're expecting 500,000 people
to descend on Idaho Falls, a city of 50,000. Citizens are advised to have
enough supplies on hand for a full week, including gasoline. The freeway will be
turned northbound all lanes beforehand, and all southbound afterward. The
power grid and cell phone towers won't be able to handle the influx. Treat it
as an emergency situation between Wednesday and Wednesday.
Being the anxious one that I am, I decide shortly after the
announcement that we're not going to chance it. First, I can't afford to be in
IF for a week with 500,000 other people. And as much as my little sister loves
me, I didn't want to inflict the stress of hosting us during an emergency situation.
Also, even though Idaho schools have postponed their first day to Tuesday, our
school district has not; my son is expected at his first day of First Grade on
Monday, August 21.
So, we didn't make the journey to the path of totality, and
now that it is all said and done, I'm kinda bummed we didn't. I spoke to my
bestie, who lives in IF, on the phone during it; there was no issue with the
signal at all. That morning I got word from a co-worker who had to drive north
on Sunday that the freeway was packed, but I watched the traffic on Google Maps
Thursday through Saturday and there was very little delay, if any.
My three younger siblings got to experience totality,
though, and they got some great pics of it.
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Photo credit: my SIL, near Mud Lake, ID at totality |
The Hubby and I still had a great time, obviously. Even
though the difference at 93% maximum is so much different than at 100%, we got
to nerd out and watch the whole thing from a big park near our home. We got
there earlier than pretty much all the other spectators, though not before all
the frisbee golfers. We picked a spot with a lot of sun shine and shade the
beginning of one of the, uh...holes? I'm not a frolfer myself so idk, but
anyway there's a bench and we gushed about how amazing it was with all the
people that came through during the hour and a half we stuck around.
I immediately started watching the shadows, and it didn't take long for them to start doing the thing.
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Time stamp: 11:06 am MT |
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11:06 am MT |
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11:07 am MT |
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The thing! They're doing the thing! |
Those of you that know me well can attest: I'm not a
spiritual or religious person, but when the giant rock that we call the moon
was blocking my view of the light and
heat from the star we depend on because of their relative positions in space
and my location on a third rock, I felt very humble. Very small and
insignificant, which to me, is relieving above all else. What do my personal,
day-to-day stresses mean in the dimming light and cooling air of an
astronomical event that I am seriously lucky to be experiencing and not all all
capable of influencing? Nothing. I'm just part of the mold that grows and
propagates on this third rock. It reminded me that I'm part of something bigger,
even bigger than I can even really comprehend, and that my life only has the
meaning I give it.
I also felt very grateful to live at a point in human
history during which we have the technology to understand eclipses and all
manner of astrological phenomena. The very first eclipse I saw was when I was
about six years old, and it was not a full solar eclipse. It was good enough to
get us all out in the street, though, doing the finger thing to make pinholes
(which, I didn't really get at the time because the Internet and NDT weren't
around to explain to me what a pinhole camera was, nor do I think the eclipse
was full enough that time to really do the shadow thing effectively). We dared
to look at it through film negatives back then, even though I'm positive they
told us not to do that. Now, we have even thinner strips of plastic covering
our eyes and actually preventing damage. My six year old came home with a pair
gabbing about how he looked at the sun and moon with them, and peering at the
sun with them again on our way back from the bus stop.
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"I can't see!" |
Maybe one day I'll be telling my grandchildren about how I
turned 32 on the day of the Great American Solar Eclipse, and showing them the
silly paper eye protection that we wore. There might be live streams of every
eclipse that happens by then, and they'll be no big thing. Maybe my
grandchildren will go on school field trips out into the middle of the ocean
like rich people do now to view total eclipses. They'll probably roll their
eyes at me and comment about how they've seen plenty of them and they don't
have to worry about funny glasses because everyone has bionic eyes now and can
look directly at the sun anytime they want.
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Source: NASA's Flickr |
Perhaps we'll travel to the totality for the next solar
eclipse in 2024. The Hubby has family in in San Antonio, which is right in the
path. I know people who are already making plans for it. In the meantime, I'll
be obsessing over this solar eclipse for a while.
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11:13 am MT |
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11:16 am MT |
Thanks for enjoying my footage of it.
~The NWB
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