Entry tags:
Eclipse (solar, as opposed to icon)
I just want to make some notes while they are still in my head.
K with the telescope attachment I gave him crowing about finding sunspots.
The way the color saturation fades out, slowly, in ways that are not consciously present to start with, but merely settle in as a growing sense of unease.
Only then after coming out to it from inside suddenly it's an awareness of fadedness, of not quite paleness but a seeping sense that the reality has drained out of things.
The green trees gone to bronze and verdegris to the eye, but when I lifted the phone to take a picture to document, the phone saw green trees - that was an amazing modern bit of cosmic horror, actually.
The midges swarming like dusk.
The foliage of the local trees (not broadleaf deciduous) not dense enough to properly cast crescents on the ground beneath, but![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
larksdream's colander did.
The sun at crescent - not that we could tell that really - behind the high, thin cirrus surrounded by a perfect circle of pale rainbow, with all the light between the sun and the orb's border oddly greyed.
The light didn't seem to shift that fast, until, suddenly, it did.
Counting down loud enough that others could hear in the deepening twilight.
Diamond ring flare of light, and Jupiter above and Venus below, bright and clear, though the haze of skies washed away the other planets and the comet.
The burning, boiling hole in the sky; the glow of the horizon; the world holding its breath.
The brilliant scarlet gem, like a tiny ruby set in the ring now, on the bottom of the disc: a bright, flaring prominence visible to the naked eye.
The eternal moment passes; the diamond ring flares again. The gathered people let up a cheer: relief, gratitude, the return of sunlight.
K showing off his photographs to us, to other people who wander by.
Me commenting to Lark that the light was now back to the quality that we had been "oh, this is weird and unsettling" about, and now we felt practically normal again.
Me commenting to KJ that now they had to figure out how to explain this to their players (they are prepping their first TTRPG campaign and it is kicking off with an eclipse).
"The squirrel came back!"
AR, afterwards, declaring that the cosmos had done something awesome for her and ER as a birthday present.
K with the telescope attachment I gave him crowing about finding sunspots.
The way the color saturation fades out, slowly, in ways that are not consciously present to start with, but merely settle in as a growing sense of unease.
Only then after coming out to it from inside suddenly it's an awareness of fadedness, of not quite paleness but a seeping sense that the reality has drained out of things.
The green trees gone to bronze and verdegris to the eye, but when I lifted the phone to take a picture to document, the phone saw green trees - that was an amazing modern bit of cosmic horror, actually.
The midges swarming like dusk.
The foliage of the local trees (not broadleaf deciduous) not dense enough to properly cast crescents on the ground beneath, but
larksdream's colander did.The sun at crescent - not that we could tell that really - behind the high, thin cirrus surrounded by a perfect circle of pale rainbow, with all the light between the sun and the orb's border oddly greyed.
The light didn't seem to shift that fast, until, suddenly, it did.
Counting down loud enough that others could hear in the deepening twilight.
Diamond ring flare of light, and Jupiter above and Venus below, bright and clear, though the haze of skies washed away the other planets and the comet.
The burning, boiling hole in the sky; the glow of the horizon; the world holding its breath.
The brilliant scarlet gem, like a tiny ruby set in the ring now, on the bottom of the disc: a bright, flaring prominence visible to the naked eye.
The eternal moment passes; the diamond ring flares again. The gathered people let up a cheer: relief, gratitude, the return of sunlight.
K showing off his photographs to us, to other people who wander by.
Me commenting to Lark that the light was now back to the quality that we had been "oh, this is weird and unsettling" about, and now we felt practically normal again.
Me commenting to KJ that now they had to figure out how to explain this to their players (they are prepping their first TTRPG campaign and it is kicking off with an eclipse).
"The squirrel came back!"
AR, afterwards, declaring that the cosmos had done something awesome for her and ER as a birthday present.
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This! Even pretty far from totality, there's a quality to the light which is subtly different than "the light you get closer to dusk". I think we got to 93% totality or so, by which point the color of the world was like sunset, but lower-contrast - closer to a day with haze from wildfires but with a clear blue sky.
I remembered this from previous eclipses, and pointed it out to G before it became obvious. As it got stronger, he was trying to find words to describe it.
(He wants to experience a total eclipse at some point, as do I - looks like we'll either need to wait a couple decades or travel to a different continent, though.)
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Cosmic/cyberpunk horror moment: trying to take a photo of it and the cameras color-correcting to perfectly normal green trees against a perfectly normal blue sky.
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(My phone kept correcting the sun into circularity, until I changed various advanced settings.)
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It feels redundant to say that this description is breathtaking, but it really is. Thank you for sharing it.