Thursday, March 30, 2006

How do you find the words to describe magic and wonder?

Beach before

We took the short walk to this beach near Side in Turkey, and encamped ourselves under the solitary awning that had been put up on the waiting frames. It was late morning, and a glorious day - virtually clear blue skies, comfortably warm temperatures, moderated by a gentle breeze. I needed sunglasses against the unaccustomed brightness of the day.

waiting

We waited. Looking anxiously at the sky.

We all had the strange solar glasses - as you put them on, your own eyes looked back at you.

Waiting

By first contact, a few more people had gathered here. We were, in the main, the "experiencers", not the informed, fanatical chasers. They collected together on small hills and inclines, surrounded by tripods, telescopes, ferocious looking cameras, computers. With first contact came the first collective small cries, the occasional gasp, then quiet talk again.

The day continued bright and warm.

But the first thing I noticed was the breeze strengthening. Then it started to feel noticeably chillier, and people began to wrap themselves in extra garments, towels, whatever came to hand. Soon it was quite cool in comparison with the earlier warmth.

I apologise for the quality of the next photograph - I haven't even stopped to crop it. But it does just about show what I wanted to show. Because gradually, I became aware that there was something wrong with my eyes. It is, actually, the most odd sensation - the brain is totally unfamiliar with what is happening, so can't translate it accurately. The sun, so it seems, is still blazing away in the midday sky, but the light is dimming - so, it must be your eyes. By this point, the eclipse was probably about 75-80% obscured, but this could only be discerned with the glasses on. To normal vision, all was as usual.

Waiting

Things moved fast after that. The light levels fell dramatically, and suddenly, we were there. It is impossible for me to really describe what I felt - I suppose that describing what I saw is a little more possible. Heard, too. There is something about the phenomenon of a total eclipse that elicits an emotional, vocal response - people gasp, call out, even sob.

The experience is beautiful - I shall make no apology for my own emotional responses. The colours - it is not dark, and was in fact lighter than my next two images suggest. And there, high in the sky on this occasion, someone has cut a perfect, black, round disc out of the sky, around which flares a white and glorious ring of light - the corona. For the duration of totality, you can look with your naked, unprotected eye into the point where the sun should be.

At totality

At totality

I am amazed that my little digital camera managed to capture any images of this at all, so I am certainly not complaining. But these do not of course show what it was like with any accuracy. I am not sure that any camera could - the quality of light is so different from at any other time, with an unusual intensity as well as colour. The sky is a vibrant mid blue - because of an exceptionally bright corona, and a few wisps of cloud, only two planets were visible, Venus and Mercury, which the DSM with his SHR eyes was able to see but I was not. We looked mainly over the sea, and it is that horizon which blazed with the colours that show rather dimly here. The bright spots are where streetlights have come on automatically.

For that three and a half minutes, we gazed in awe, and I think that somewhere in the depths of our hearts wondered if indeed the sun would return. When it did - when the first brilliant flash of sunlight flared at the edge of the black disc - there was another gasp, a cheer, an almost palpable sense of relief, and an almost palpable sense of regret. It was, in essence over. The sun had returned, which was of course, good. But the magic had gone, and something had passed that we may never be fortunate enough to see again.

This website has an archived recording of the entire thing. Skip the extremely irritating animation, indeed most of the broadcast which is a bit verbose and - irritating. But at around the 55 minute point comes the actual eclipse, and there are good shots of the corona. There is a lot of noise from the assembled crowd, but you can hear what I have been talking about. The webcast was made from only a little way away from where we were - I think I was happier on our beach.

I am so glad we went. If I can see it again some time in the future, I will do so in a heartbeat. As the ancients will have done, I feel I experienced magic.

3 comments:

Alcuin Bramerton said...

Perhaps magic was intended to be the normative state of being. And somehow we forgot.

Celeste said...

When the eclipse happened here a few years ago I was working in an office in the cloudy north where it wasn't a full eclipse and my boss wouldn't let us go outside.
The week after I went on holiday to the Isles of Scilly and it's all anyone was talking about. I'd never been that bothered before, but listening to them, and reading again about your experiences has made me long to experience it for myself... one day.

Sara said...

Cool! Thanks for the report, I hadn't known about the winds.