Hey Everybody, I’m back. Ran down to South Carolina (Greenville area) last month to experience the solar eclipse…Actually to experience totality which is a totally (sorry!) different thing. It was mind-blowing. It is one of the few times when I have felt words don’t really do an event justice. Just look at it:
If you find yourself near an eclipse again, I recommend getting to the totality zone so you can fully experience it. I was very suspicious/cynical before driving eight hours and spending two nights in a (meh) hotel room for an event scheduled to last two minutes. But as totality (that moment when the moon completely blocks the sun) started I began clapping and cheering. I couldn’t help myself. It was that incredible.
There are many stages to reaching totality. First, you see the crescent of the sun get smaller and smaller (the start of the eclipse). Eventually, the temperature starts to drop (in Greenville it dropped about 10 degrees Farenheit), the night animals/insects start to make noise and the sky starts to acquire a strange twilight glow. Then, the light from the sliver of sun becomes white (not yellow or orange) and there is a strange diamond ring effect. And boom! The Sun is gone and only the aurora is left. It’s a fantastical scene. Everything appears monochrome above (see the picture) and the stars begin to appear in the night sky. There is a twilight or sunset around 360 degrees on the horizon and you can hear all the crickets/cicadas thundering along at this point. It lasts for only a couple of minutes—but is sublime. Then, there is a second diamond ring effect and the sun is back. Color starts to come back and the twilight comes back as the stars fade.
It’s one of nature’s great events and this post hardly does it justice. Like I said, it is one of those few times when I feel words truly fail me. You must simply experience it.
So, next time there’s an eclipse, see if there will also be a totality. Then, book a room and grab a car/train/ship and get there for the big moment. You won’t regret it.
See you next time,
Darius