Eclipse

This comes a little late, I guess, but I needed a few days to process.

Since I live next to the largest railroad switch yard in the world, I wanted to get away from the roar of the railroad for the eclipse. I hoped to watch the sun disappear in a place where I could hear the response of wild creatures.

Here’s my spot. Already colors have begun to change.

Working with another author on formatting her book, I found time slipping away, but I finally told her I’d get back after the eclipse and rushed out the door, into the car, and headed north. About 20 miles out of North Platte, I turned off the main highway and headed east on the Garfield Table Road. After a couple of sashays onto gravel roads that didn’t quite suit me, I picked a spot and pulled off on the grassy shoulder just off the blacktop.

The sky had been darkening as I looked for my spot, but getting my camera and my eclipse glasses ready so occupied me, I couldn’t feel grateful then for my spot.  In moments, I had the rear gate of my Prius open, giving me a place to sit and watch. I got my glasses on, and my camera trained on the sky. Suddenly I had time to listen and look.

At first, a thin cloud cover veiled the sun. Here’s my first shot just pointing and shooting.

First, I heard the whisper of water spraying on corn and noticed a center pivot system across the road. No other sound intruded on the darkening silence. I tried a few shots with my camera set at 4000 of a second at f 3.5–the settings that would allow the least possible light.  Oops! Though the sky only revealed a tiny sliver of sun, I got a blur of light.

Sun sliver against black sky.

I set the camera down and waited for totality. Meanwhile, I heard little twitters like birds in the grasses settling down for the night. Across the road in the corn, I heard a few peaceful chirps—blackbirds maybe. As the air cooled, the tiniest of breezes stirred individual blades of rye grass, the only grass with blades wide enough to catch the tiny bit of moving air. The finer grasses lay still.

At last. Totality.

When the moon had totally covered the sun, leaving only the fire of its corona, I left the focus set to infinity, and let the camera choose shutter speed and aperture. I got some fine corona photos.  I noted, when it got as dark as it would, I heard crickets and the birds when silent. As sun began to escape the moon shadow, the only sound I heard, again, was the water whispering in the corn.