Because Here the Darkness Will Cover Land

The Diamond at the End of Totality

I wore my shirt from Cedars of Lebanon in 2017. That was my way of communicating I'd seen a rotal eclipse brfore. That invites the inevitable question, "how did it compare?"

Look at the sun! (with eclipse glasses)

For one thing, this time I knew it was coming. This time, it was reachable with a relatively short drive from home. This time, Aaron wanted to see it, and was willing to fly in from Baltimore to see it with us. This time, Ezra decided he wanted to see it too, wherever we were going with Aaron. This time, Lori's mother decided she, too, wanted to witness it, and would come with us wherever we went. This time, I somehow managed to convince several friends that pinholes and eclipse glasses are nice and it's pretty awesome to see a 99% eclipse, but really, there's just no substitute for totality.

Beginning of partial, just before 2pm.

But also, this time would be in early April. The eclipse path would come well within 100 miles of home, but typically early April in these parts aren't especially sunny. Only 4 of the past 10 years have been sunny on April 8th, so I decided not to try to commit to any location... nevermind that some hotels in Cleveland were going for $800. When I was finally able to track the weather projections, they weren't especially optimistic. I decided to track about a dozen locations in Ohio and a couple more in Canada. As recently as 5 days before the eclipse, the forecast in most of western Ohio said, "Chance of precipitation is 30%," while my Canadian locations said "Chance of rain 80%." By Saturday the forecast turned more favorable in Ohio, so I finally found an affordable hotel near Toledo -- my biggest mistake of the week. It allowed us to avoid potentially heavy traffic on Monday, but to call the hotel - a name brand hotel, even - a dump would be an insult to dumps.

Our biggest Monday decision was where to witness the eclipse. We chose between Fremont and Bowling Green, ultimately choosing Bowling Green. Even though totality would be 2 minutes and 58 seconds, as compared to 3 minutes and 38 seconds at Fremont, Bowling Green was offering a NASA feed, concessions, a slew of huge telescopes on the football field to check, and thousands of people to witness it with. It was also a few miles closer to home, which seemed potentially important considering Aaron's scheduled evening flight back to Baltimore.

Final moments before darkness, around 3:10pm

Yesterday was the warmest day in several weeks, reaching the mid-70s before the eclipse. This also allowed us to experience more fully the cool-down during the partial eclipse, which began just before 2pm. As partiality increased, someone explained the events on the stadium's loudspeakers. The Bowling Green Marching Band played, sometimes fight songs, sometimes eclipse-themed songs. The family all tried out the eclipse glasses; by show time I probably had 20 pair, which was quite a few more than I needed.

In Tennessee in 2017, I had no solar filters for my camera, so I Jerry Rigged a setup with eclipse glasses taped to my camera lens with medical tape from the swimming pool's first aid station. Realizing on Saturday that I didn't want to do this again, I learned the value of Amazon next day delivery, and bought some cheap solar filters for my DSLR and cell phone.

Bowling Green Goes Dark

What is it about the eclipse that has enchanted people seemingly forever? The few minutes that hopefully we get to experience just a few times in a lifetime, reminding us that we are space travelers in a vast universe? That moment when planets and stars become plainly visible to the naked eye, high up in the sky, during the middle of the afternoon? In the book of Isaiah there is a passage: "כִּי-הִנֵּה הַחֹשֶׁךְ יְכַסֶּה-אֶרֶץ" -- and maybe neither that nor other biblical passages were literally talking about an eclipse. But I look at the words, just the words... "because here the darkness will cover land"... not even a definite article for land, just that the darkness will cover land. At least, my non-biblical scholar self will now read it that way.

Totality, 3:11pm

It became chillier. The light became weird, and noticeably less bright. Then, in the final seconds, thousands of people roared as one, as day turned in to night.

After 4pm, and it's almost over.

How did it compare? This one was longer, by 40 seconds for me. I missed the experience of the birds going silent; in the football stadium there just weren't as many. There was a high cloud layer this time, but not enough to occlude the sun. The beads around the moon, first blue and then red, were amazing. But mostly, I was just happy to witness it.

The traffic back home wasn't nearly as bad as in 2017, though Google Maps was overmatched again. I finally learned, after a detour through seemingly random parts of Toledo, to ignore certain instructions. But we got Aaron to his flight in plenty of time.

The next eclipse? Maybe 2026 in Iceland. Or, how about this: 2027 at the Great Pyramids in Giza? For six minutes! It's something to contemplate.