April 14, 2024: Eclipse

Well, the eclipse of 2024 stole the show for this week, and perhaps this decade, but I'll first record the dates of some spring milestones for the journal.  I saw my first phoebe on Tuesday, April 9th, and heard the first wood frogs singing in the vernal pools that same warm evening.  On my first kayak trip of the year I found Canada geese nesting on an island, not in the marsh, because the lake level is so high their usual location in the marsh is flooded.  There should be more signs of spring to report next week.

So, the eclipse.  Certainly the northeast lucked out on the weather with perfect atmospheric conditions in northern New New Hampshire to observe the celestial event of the century.  Linda and I decided to take the trip up to Colebrook to get a full three minutes of totality during the eclipse, and it was worth every second of the drive up and back - all eight hours of it coming home.

I'll start by saying I found the people around us to be the most polite and jubilant large crowd I've ever experienced.  Even standing in long lines to get coffee everyone was happy and sharing stories.  I met one person who lives in Texas and was planning to watch the eclipse in San Antonio.  But when she saw the Texas forecast on Sunday, she bought a plane ticket to Boston and drove up to Colebrook that morning!   Even the drivers in the massive traffic jam heading home were courteous - everyone was still stunned by what they just witnessed, and the long drive gave us lots of time to ponder what we had experienced.

Having arrived early we found a comfortable spot in a large field with a good view and watched other  eclipse observers file in - the anticipation was building.  

The event started at 2:17 pm when the moon took its first bite out of the sun.  (The following pictures were taken with a solar filter on the camera.)

Over the next hour the sun was slowly gobbled up, the light dimming so slowly that my eyes adjusted and I wasn't really aware it was getting darker until perhaps 75% of the sun was blocked.  

The colors changed as the sun was covered, though it didn't have the same hue as a normal sunset.  Even with over 95% of the sun blocked the scene was still quite bright.

This was only about 30 seconds away from totality.

The temperature dropped and the wind picked up; I put on my coat.  As it got noticeably darker, the crowd got quieter and quieter.  The wind stopped.  Someone noted that birds were flying off to find a safe spot for the night.  Stars appeared.  There was a sunset on the horizon for 360 degrees as darkness loomed.

By the time there was just the smallest sliver of sun showing, the crowd fell silent.  

Then, a truly magical moment occurred - it was like a light switch.  According to Dr. Angela Speck, chair of the Physics and Astronomy department of the University of Texas at San Antonio, even at 99.9% partial eclipse, there is still at least 100 times more light coming from the sun than during totality, and when that last sliver of sun went instantly dark, the most fabulous ring of light appeared around the moon. 

The silence was burst with a huge cheer, gasps, hoots and hollers.  Safely taking off the dark glasses and filters from the camera and binoculars, the sight was truly astonishing.  Through the binoculars you could clearly see the red solar prominences that are produced by plasma, super-heated gases in the sun's surface which emit red light (think of the light from a helium-neon laser). 

Solar prominences, hot plasmas containing highly charged helium and hydrogen gas.

These don't show up well in my pictures but you probably saw excellent images from telescopes photographing the event.  During totality I took a couple of photographs with different exposure times to capture the corona which is the hot outer atmosphere around the sun, visible only during a total eclipse.  The longer exposures capture the dimmer parts of the corona farther from the sun while over-exposing the bright edge around the moon.  

This exposure was 1/15 of a second; the prior image was 1/250th of a second.

Just as quickly as totality arrived, it left.  In an instant we were blinded by a flash of just 0.01% of the sun; we had to look away, and it was over.  It was three minutes of magic, followed by another hour of the sun slowly returning to normal.  

The factors that came together to allow Linda and I and thousands of others to experience this celestial miracle are hard to fathom.  In addition to the weather, the size of the sun and moon, and their distance from earth, all conspired in this fleeting moment in of wonder.  There was more than one discussion about whether the nearly identical size of the the sun and moon as viewed from our planet is a highly improbable coincidence or whether there is some divine or scientific aspect to it.  Do these particular parameters have a correlation with the establishment of life on earth?  The natural world provides endless questions to ponder.  

It was only three minutes, but it's three minutes of my life that will be remembered; that image is burned into my mind forever.