Astronomy and space travel have captured my imagination ever since I was a kid. I must have been six or seven when my parents took me into the back yard to show me a comet. I can recall Sputnik (barely), and I eagerly awaited each manned flight that led to the lunar landings.
I’ve always wanted to see a rocket launch, but during the heyday of the Space Race, Florida was far from when I lived. Twice I was near Cape Canaveral when a shuttle launch was planned; both times the launch was postponed.
The other event that I longed to see was a total solar eclipse. I came close in 1984, witnessing the annular eclipse in Louisiana. 99.2 percent total, but not quite there!
One way or another, I would witness the 2017 eclipse. Its path across the continent guaranteed me an opportunity to see it. If I stayed in Georgia, a four-hour drive would get me there. And if I found work in the Northwest, there’s no way I’d allow myself to miss it.
As things turned out, I was the successful bidder on a forestry job on the Warm Springs Indian Reservation, which lay directly in the path of totality. My ticket had been punched. I even found a place to stay that was within the zone.
The Daily Bucket is a nature refuge. We amicably discuss eclipses, animals, weather, climate, soil, plants, waters and note life’s patterns.
We invite you to note what you are seeing around you in your own part of the world, and to share your observations in the comments below.
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In the days leading up to the eclipse, I scouted potential viewing sites. Under normal circumstances, this would be fairly easy. But the Nena Springs wildfire started about ten days before Eclipse Day, eventually burning more than 60,000 acres. The road that I wanted to use was closed much of that time.
Highway 3 served as a fire break for crews working the Nena Springs wildfire. Mt. Jefferson looms in the distance, surrounded by a veil of smoke.
9:20 am PDT, exactly one hour before totality. Green hue is from welder’s glass held in front of camera lens. Remaining pics in this diary have been edited to remove the color.
There was always the option of staying put; the place I was renting would see fifty seconds of totality. By traveling south, I could double that amount, and then some. About 20 miles away, where the flat land drops into a canyon, the Sun would be covered for nearly two minutes. The views were nice, but there were very few places to pull off the road. Most of the way down, there was a guardrail and no shoulder.
After partiality began, I drove down Highway 3. Hardly anyone was on the road. Most of the eclipse watchers had already staked out locations off the road. One car here, five there, ten over yonder. Not exactly a multitude. To the south, a layer of smoke intruded, coming from forest fires in the Cascade Mountains.
Traffic was horrendous. I nearly turned around!
Eclipse watchers lined up on side road.
9:40 am
As I drove, the smoke got closer to the place the Sun occupied in the sky. The canyon location was no longer the best option. I stopped in Simnasho, known for the Three Warriors convenience store and not much else. Perhaps 100 people were there to view the eclipse. I decided to join them.
By the time I settled in, the light was noticeably dim, and getting dimmer by the minute. Noble Fur kept wanting to wander around, but two large dogs were running loose. Eventually I set her on the hood of the truck, with her leash looped around the radio antenna. I was juggling the cat, two lenses for the DSLR camera, the camera phone, and the welder’s glass for looking at the Sun.
Old buildings at Simnasho. I wanted to get them in the eclipse pictures, but it would have been too much to do in that short span of time.
10:09 am, 11 minutes before totality
On a parking lot surrounded by people and dogs, there was not much of an opportunity to note how wildlife reacted to the sudden change in light. I did notice a half-dozen birds flying low, seemingly looking for a place to roost. A nearby porch light came on.
As totality approached, the DSLR decided that it did not want to take pictures in the dark. Rather than fiddle with it, I set it aside. I’ve seen plenty of eclipse pictures, and many great images would be captured by those better equipped than I.
Five minutes before totality. Noble Fur is far more interested in the wandering dogs than in the impending darkness.
It was time to savor the moment. When the last sliver of sunlight disappeared behind the moon, the sky abruptly changed. The darkened sun, surrounded by the corona, was the focal point of everything. There is no use in coming up with superlatives to describe it; they’ve already been used over and over. Fifteen seconds into totality, I was already wishing for one of those seven-minute eclipses, rather than a paltry minute and forty seconds.
Totality! The camera washed out the details, but trust me, it was totally groovy and awesome! Note the smoke towards the horizon. That was the reason I did not travel any farther south.
Yes, it was very quiet. But then, the location was not exactly noisy to begin with. The observers cheered and oohed and ahhed for a few seconds; then they admired in silence. Someone pointed out that Venus was in view; there it was to the west, shining bright.
Noble Fur made this sketch of the eclipse. Okay, the photo editor did it. Perhaps one day this will be how I will remember the eclipse.
I glanced away for a few moments to look at the surrounding terrain. While it seemed like night overhead, towards the horizons the effect was more like twilight.
Totality ended abruptly. In the minutes prior to it, I was thinking, “Wow, it sure is getting dim.” When that first tiny sliver of sun reappeared, my brain said, “Wow, that’s bright!”
That’s one thing I’ll take away from this experience, something I didn’t expect. When totality arrives, you know it. When it’s over, you know that too.
Within thirty seconds of totality’s end, one viewer fired up his car and drove away. He probably leaves baseball games in the fifth inning, too.
There was no reason for me to follow him. I watched the light return to normal strength, looking through the welder’s glass as the moon and sun parted company.
10:46 am, 15 minutes past totality
On the ride back, two cars passed me in quick succession, one from British Columbia and one from Washington. Hey, eclipse is over, gotta get home now! As for me, I was in no hurry. The eclipse was the only thing on the day’s agenda. Nothing else was going to top the spectacular alignment that so few Americans had seen – until now.
For those of you who are “tired” of eclipse pictures, this one’s for you.
Now It's Your Turn
What have you noted happening in your area or travels? Those of you who witnessed the eclipse, please add your pictures and observations. I’m sure that some of you have better pictures than mine.
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