Friday, August 25, 2017

Eclipse Hype

My Observations of the Eclipse


Eclipse from Spokane WA at 10:15 am.
(All photos by Jennifer E. Miller)

There was this thing called a total solar eclipse that happened on Monday. Did you hear about it? There was sure a lot of hype over the moon blacking out our sun. To have a solar eclipse happen where you live is a rare occurrence. If its so infrequent, why the frenzy? In fact, I'm surprised people were making such a big deal about it. The quail visit our yard nearly everyday; now that's a spectacle.

Jennifer, are you serious?!

No, no! Of course not. You should know by now I love sarcasm.

When I first heard about the solar eclipse, I mistook it for a lunar eclipse, which happen more frequently. When all these eclipse glasses starting popping up for sale, I didn't understand why they were necessary. I thought they were a toy to enhance the experience. By the time I realized how special a solar eclipse is, and the need for anti-retina-frying goggles, it was a little late in the game as retailers were sold out. I came to terms with my mistake and researched other interactive ways to experience the eclipse.

There were many creative ways to view a solar eclipse with a pinhole method. I got really excited to use my homemade pinhole viewer that took a whopping 47.3 seconds to gather supplies and create. All I needed was a sheet of white paper with a small hole punched out. With my back to the sun, hold up the paper. The sun shines through the hole onto the ground or other surface. When the moon crosses paths with the sun, the bright circle changes into a crescent shape. Use this same idea and enclose a pinhole viewer in a cereal or other small box. But wait! You can lay your fingers over one another in a waffle pattern to create a pinhole effect (which is cool cause it shows several little eclipses all at once). Again, using the same idea, look at the ground through the shadows of a leafy tree. Even a pasta colander with all those little holes. The creative possibilities are endless.

I was very curious about the light and/or darkness. While we weren't in the path of total totality, our area would get around 92% and I wondered how much darkness was coming. What would the light be like? Would it resemble twilight, dusk, or dawn? Would it glow, making long shadows? I also looked forward to feeling the eclipse. Would it be cold? Folks using those stinking glasses wouldn't be able to experience any of those things because, surely, they would only be focusing on the sun's show and not its affect on earth.

I got hyped up over my own hype. At the last minute, a friend said, "Hey, I have an extra pair of eclipse glasses. Do you want them?" I almost said no. I looked forward to a creative experience. But, knowing how hard those suckers were to come by, I took them home. They sat on my counter overnight, twinkling under my kitchen lights. I felt as though I was cheating on my creativity.

Eclipse Day, August 21, 2017, arrived and I sent G off to school. Someone managed to secure eclipse glasses for the students and I was glad she would get to see the sun and the moon competing for alignment. Since I wasn't exactly sure how the school was planning to ensure that all 500+ students kept their anti-retina-frying goggles on their faces, we went over safety precautions again. And again. And again. G was annoyed with my worrying that she finally said, "Can I just take a pinhole view instead?" I sent her with one, but explained that this is really special and she should look at the eclipse through the special glasses...and only the special glasses. (I had to get that one last mom warning before sending her loose through the hallways.)

Back at home T and I had the TV switched on to one of dozens of stations covering the eclipse. Around 9:15 am the eclipse started. The news anchors enthusiastically announced the moon has just taken its first bite out of the sun. On the screen was the orange circle of our sun with a teeny tiny edge covered. I wondered if we could actually see that with the glasses, so outside I went with my eye cover. By golly! We can see it. Until about an hour later, that was about all the excitement. The moon reportedly travels 2,288 miles her hour. When a human is firmly planted on Earth, it sure doesn't seem that fast. So we waited

Near 92% at 10:23 am. Notice the long shadows and "glow" on T's skin. Not typical of a cloudless bright day.

I only have 8% of the sun shining on me!

Taken after school. She is mimicking "Ooooo" because that's what she says she was doing when watching the eclipse. Notice how the light is significantly different that the top photo. Both subjects are facing the sun.

About 10:00 am the moon was positioned enough that the eclipse projections through the pinholes were a true crescent shape. It was like the moon phases, only with the sun. I got some neat photos.

Pinhole viewing method. This was about at peak totality.

Punch a bunch of holes to see multiple eclipses! 10:41 am.

Fast forward about an hour to 10:15 am and things start to get really interesting. Of course we took peeks through the glasses here and there, too, but the vibe was obviously different. The normally scorching sun rays disappeared. Not filtered as though behind clouds, but blocked; similar to a sunset dipping behind the horizon. The temperature suddenly dropped several degrees, giving me goosebumps. The sunlight was noticeably dimmer and less intense.

Our neighbors walked onto their back deck about this time, too. It was fun shouting across the yards to them. "Do you see it?" "It's pretty cool." "T is worried he might be missing out on good fishing."

10:27 am was to be the peak of Spokane's totality (remember 92%). As the moon inched closer, the temperature continued to cool and the sunlight was losing its battle to shine at capacity. The normally bright blue sky turned greyish blue. And everything was quiet. The birds disappeared. Wasps retreated to their nests. There was no rustling of the tree branches; even the slight breeze present was stealth. It felt as though nightfall was on its way. Curiously, even I felt the urge to bundle up, light a campfire, and roast marshmallows (hey that's what someone does outside at night!) I was unexpectedly uncomfortable experiencing twilight at 10:27 am. It was cold, dim, and quiet. Entirely too quiet.

The last bird we saw before 92% totality: a Eurasian Collared Dove. The sky is taking on a deeper tint.

Luckily, totality only lasts a couple minutes and soon the moon floated out of the sun's way. Its retreat was even more interesting that its advance. The crescent shape, which formed on the sun's left side, curved over the top, and ended on the right side. Like the sun was a lazy susan spinning in the sky.

Finally, with the eclipse completed, the all-powerful sun once again spit its warmth and strength onto Spokane. And my adorable little birdies returned for their snacks.

The eclipse was over quickly. While we were not in the path of complete totality, it was interesting how light it stayed, even with less than ten percent of sun's capacity upon us. That goes to show the sheer power of the sun (and the necessity for proper eyewear). I had fun observing this phenomenon and its affects right from home.


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