Midnight Eclipse
We've been watching the lunar eclipse, which is now at around its peak.
The first lunar eclipse I watched, I was out on a patch of lawn with a bunch of hippies somewhere. I suspect a good percentage of the company had in some way altered their consciousness, and there was much discussion of the symbolism of the occasion, pretension nearly as thick as the patchouli, incense on the breeze.
This one is very different, of course. For one thing, all of my California stargazing experiences have been a bit colder than I would have liked. Shooting stars? Freezing every time. It gets chilly quickly here, summer or winter. Another way this time differs is the company.
Garth and I had parked in front of the house and I decided that the car would be a good place to lean, so we'd have support without cricking our necks. I grabbed an old blanket from the trunk so my skin would be as far away from the metal of the car as possible, and we settled in fairly comfortably. There was nobody on the street.
Eventually, the people from the house next door became concerned because there were weirdos standing out in the street, staring up into the sky. Judging from the noises and flickering lights, they came out, turned the lights on and off a few times, looked at us but not at the moon (they would have had to have come out from their porch), then turned the lights off and went back in.
Time passed. The eclipse proceeded as you would have expected. No doubt you can find a video online.
A couple passed. She was looking at the walker she was pushing, though she wanted the man to look up from his phone and at her. Neither one spared us more than a glance, two harmless lunatics gazing skywards at what was increasingly impersonating nothing (cloud cover helped).
The stars were brilliant despite the city's glow, shimmering in deep blue dark. The moon softly glowed red yellow brown when it could be seen at all. Somewhere not far from here at the top of a grasslands mountain pass, the usual groups of starstruck hopefuls freeze, hands like ice, wind like sandpaper across their faces, cramps in their necks. And may it be well worthwhile to them.
Me, I'm thawing. Beautiful night, no?
The first lunar eclipse I watched, I was out on a patch of lawn with a bunch of hippies somewhere. I suspect a good percentage of the company had in some way altered their consciousness, and there was much discussion of the symbolism of the occasion, pretension nearly as thick as the patchouli, incense on the breeze.
This one is very different, of course. For one thing, all of my California stargazing experiences have been a bit colder than I would have liked. Shooting stars? Freezing every time. It gets chilly quickly here, summer or winter. Another way this time differs is the company.
Garth and I had parked in front of the house and I decided that the car would be a good place to lean, so we'd have support without cricking our necks. I grabbed an old blanket from the trunk so my skin would be as far away from the metal of the car as possible, and we settled in fairly comfortably. There was nobody on the street.
Eventually, the people from the house next door became concerned because there were weirdos standing out in the street, staring up into the sky. Judging from the noises and flickering lights, they came out, turned the lights on and off a few times, looked at us but not at the moon (they would have had to have come out from their porch), then turned the lights off and went back in.
Time passed. The eclipse proceeded as you would have expected. No doubt you can find a video online.
A couple passed. She was looking at the walker she was pushing, though she wanted the man to look up from his phone and at her. Neither one spared us more than a glance, two harmless lunatics gazing skywards at what was increasingly impersonating nothing (cloud cover helped).
The stars were brilliant despite the city's glow, shimmering in deep blue dark. The moon softly glowed red yellow brown when it could be seen at all. Somewhere not far from here at the top of a grasslands mountain pass, the usual groups of starstruck hopefuls freeze, hands like ice, wind like sandpaper across their faces, cramps in their necks. And may it be well worthwhile to them.
Me, I'm thawing. Beautiful night, no?