The day the moon tried to swallow the sun
Greetings from the island!! Finally another posting from this busy summer. I’ll be catching up with you all.
Days before the eclipse I realized I had waited too long ( as usual) to find a solar filter for my Canon and everyone was sold out of solar glasses as well. Luckily I had a pair from the last solar eclipse and with a tiny Nikon pocket camera I improvised a filter.
Up on Mill Hill people headed on a hike toward the hill top with all kinds of strange devices, welders #14 glasses which make everything green, a pinhole box for safe viewing, tripods and lenses galore.
We decided to sit below the summit in the quiet of the parking lot and picnic area with our iphones, my little Nikon, Canon, tripod and glasses at the ready. Two ravens fled into the trees as the first bite was taken out of the sun. It became eerily quiet. Birds stopped singing. I remembered a quote by Mother Theresa, “In the silence, God speaks.” As light dimmed it turned cold, and suddenly in a marvelous pinhole camera effect, the shimmering shadows of a multitude of crescent suns were cast through the foliage of the trees onto an organic photographic plate on the lawn.
Here on the island the moon could not quite get her mouth fully around the glowing pie, and as the sun escaped her hunger, the sweat of his effort shone in rivulets of blinding light between the shadowy trees
My submission to Leanne Cole’s Monochrome Madness (4-18) this week taken after the eclipse
After the Eclipse
I suddenly felt the joy and awe of being a part of the mystery and so,
The Sweetness of Morning
Each moment is a sacred celebration