We were in Spain this summer not only to enjoy the cooler weather but also to put ourselves in the line of fire (so to speak) for a total eclipse. After a bit of a scramble when we realized plan A didn’t have good odds of clear skies, we took a train further south to Valladolid, into the very heat we came to northern Spain to escape. Plan B was the charm, despite the 100 degree weather.
We got a hotel costing a small fortune on the western side of town. The hotel was far less than the car we were planning to rent for plan A so I’m calling it a win. Second win: Mark took it upon himself to spend the day before the eclipse sweating and hiking in the hills to the west of the city to find the best viewing spot. Better him than me. He likes saunas; me, not so much. While scoping, he met a documentary film maker from Mexico who had all the right gear for finding the perfect angles. They settled on a spot and said see you tomorrow, while I was lounging in the hotel ac.
We’ve seen one eclipse before, but it was 99%, not total. I’m a satisficer, not a maximizer. I figure in most everything, close enough is good enough. Perfection is highly overrated. But I kept hearing that when it comes to eclipses, 99% might as well be 50%. That last percent makes a world of difference.
The big day saw clear skies and the same 100 degree heat, but I’m willing to suffer for natural phenomena. The eclipse was due to take place just before sunset but it was still scorching.
The first bite the moon took out of the sun was so damn cute. Then we watched it creep across, watching the light change around us and the colors and shadows grow strange. The roosters started crowing confusedly. We were down to watching the tiniest sliver of sun in our glasses while the astrophotographer who’d joined our perfect little patch of ground counted down the seconds. Suddenly, the view from my glasses went completely black. The thin thread of sun was no longer there.The crowd gasped and applauded. I looked up with bare eyes and saw the halo of light and the bright plasma bursts on one side of the obscured sun. The air felt like it had a density and all around was surreally shadowless.
The precision of the size of our moon relative to the size of our sun, plus the distance of the moon’s orbit such that it lines up perfectly for an eclipse is enough to make you think that the world is designed for wonder. I had the feeling that the moon fit into its spot with a satisfying click and that the universe was conspiring to awe us. Not to mention that millions of people were looking up, experiencing this particular awe virtually simultaneously. Collective joy.
The time at 100% coverage was over in a mere 90 seconds. I didn’t bother much with trying to photograph it. There’s something about trying to capture something for later that puts a kind of a wall between you and the experience, like you’re already at a remove. Nothing can be reduced to an image, especially something as completely enveloping as a total eclipse, so I just stood there as wide open as I could be, to soak it in as best as my human apparatus would let me. 90 seconds was over quickly but it was worth the effort it took to be there.
I did fire off one shot. It can’t do the whole experience justice, but I’m pretty pleased with it anyway.
Cheers!
Maer
The Let's Get Lost Game 