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| Eastern Oregon during the total solar eclipse, August 21. Photo by Rebecca Hom. |
I keep thinking about the corona, a shimmering white ring around that perfect black disc. It looked like the eye of the universe, and afterward I wondered: What if eclipses like this happen every day somewhere, in some galaxy, but no one is there to see them?
Eyewitness. I'd seen photos -- and I'd made drawings -- of solar flares radiating from behind the moon's mask, but it was nothing like that. I'd read Annie Dillard's essay about the fearsome, fast-moving shadow she saw during the 1979 eclipse, and I was expecting something out of an end-of-the-world movie, but it was nothing like that.
Instead, we were draped in a blanket of incredible blue-violet, a shade I'd never before seen, which my friend Rebecca thankfully captured in this photo. (I didn't even try to get any photos during totality.) The corona shone over Eastern Oregon for a minute-and-a-half or so, then the show was over. It was amazing how fast it became daylight again, even with only a crescent sliver of sun.
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Of course, I want to see another one. Argentina in 2019? Texas in 2024? Who knows? But even if I never get to see another total solar eclipse, I'm grateful I took time to see this one.
I also know that for every grand spectacle, there is some small moment of Zen available to us every day. I'll remain watchful for those, too.
