Darkening of the Sun

Our town was not completely in the path of the totality, but was close. I'd have been happy with that, but my family's Sacred Circus troop was playing at a festival that was dead center of the darkness. So we packed up the camper and headed out to enjoy the shows on the arial rigs and in the afternoon sky.

This event was built around the eclipse, and there were huge parties on Monday in honor of it.  Drum circles, dancing, Native American ceremonies.  I'd fully planned on attending the Cherokee one, but after three days of heat, the idea of walking a 1/4 mile up to a bare hilltop in the mid day sun wasn't ideal.  Our air conditioner didn't work in the camper, and neither did the outlets, so we had no fan.

 The nights cooled off, and there was a breeze, but I was still worn out from getting very few breaks from the Missouri summer.  (Although it could have been worse, I'd expected bugs and there wasn't any problem with them at all!  Thank goodness for that break, yay!)

While thousands of happy hippies headed up the hill to go dance in the sun as it disappeared behind the moon, I joined some of my family who decided to take advantage of this Roots in Bliss Village that my boy had erected for the aerialists.  The place was pretty much deserted while everyone climbed up the road to the hilltop, so we sat under the shady tents and waited for the eclipse, enjoying our private time.   There was howling at the moon, some dancing, lots of relaxing.

 There was even a fan.  And chairs.  And shade.

There were a few others about, but the field was large, and our group still had an intimate feel to it.

I was thankful that these guys also decided to stay behind and not go with the crowds, they serenaded the moon as it covered the sun and I felt like I was being serenaded myself.

After the lively days we'd spent at the overflowing festival, watching the sun from this spot with a handful of people felt even more special.

I'd been more worried about everyone's eyesight than I was about looking forward to seeing the solar event myself, and wasn't expecting to be so moved by seeing first little bite of sun go away.  

When the air started to change and the light eerily began to have that glow, I was hooked.  

Of course, I was still worried about eyesight. And kept watching the girls as much as the sun, making sure everyone was following proper glasses etiquette.  And since bright lights lead to migraines for me, I peeked up in small doses.

 But there is much more to watching one of these than just looking up.  Looking around, feeling the shifts, and thinking about the magic of nature was more important to me than watching the entire sun get swallowed up.

I'm glad to know there will be another one to watch in my own lifetime.