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the creeping umbral shadow
Aug. 28th, 2007 04:53 amabout 10 minutes to totality, i'm sitting here on a blanket in the parking lot of my apartment building, under the big tree outside my apartment. no one else is about, all the windows are dark, and it's very peaceful, just me, the crickets, and the neighbors' cat. i've been watching the eclipse since it began. so beautiful.
conditions are ideal; the weather is lovely, the sky perfectly clear, vantage point of an eclipse. the shadowed part of the moon is already looking a bit orange, and there's only a sliver of white left... vanishing so quickly.
i can completely understand why the ancients attributed such significance to these events. it's hard to imagine what it must have seemed like to them, not knkowing what was happening.
totality. beautiful.
now it's a half-hour to maximum eclipse and the moon has turned a lovely shade of russet; it looks almost like a glowing ember. glorious. i've never seen such an amazing eclipse. i'm just starting to see light creeping around the very edge of the darker side now... soon enough there'll be a full-on corona. i feel so lucky to be seeing this. i'm hopelessly nightshifted, i've been falling to sleep between 7 and 8 a.m. most mornings, so i'm not even tired.
ten minutes to maximum eclipse. someone just let their dog out, but didn't come out themselves... it's amazing that people don't even know this is happening right up there in the sky. the guy who let his dog out just came onto his balcony and asked if i could see the moon. i told him how close it is to maximum eclipse. then he asked if i'd seen his dog. he hasn't come out to see the eclipse, and it's not visible from the balconies. i can't believe anyone wouldn't want to see this if they were awake for it.
silly people.
and we are just about at maximum eclipse, right on time. amazing. i have never seen anything quite like it. i guess it's time to wrap this up, though, although i think i'll stay out here and watch a bit longer. it would be a pity to miss a moment of it. this has been meredith reporting from a parking lot in the south austin. g'night, everybody.
conditions are ideal; the weather is lovely, the sky perfectly clear, vantage point of an eclipse. the shadowed part of the moon is already looking a bit orange, and there's only a sliver of white left... vanishing so quickly.
i can completely understand why the ancients attributed such significance to these events. it's hard to imagine what it must have seemed like to them, not knkowing what was happening.
totality. beautiful.
now it's a half-hour to maximum eclipse and the moon has turned a lovely shade of russet; it looks almost like a glowing ember. glorious. i've never seen such an amazing eclipse. i'm just starting to see light creeping around the very edge of the darker side now... soon enough there'll be a full-on corona. i feel so lucky to be seeing this. i'm hopelessly nightshifted, i've been falling to sleep between 7 and 8 a.m. most mornings, so i'm not even tired.
ten minutes to maximum eclipse. someone just let their dog out, but didn't come out themselves... it's amazing that people don't even know this is happening right up there in the sky. the guy who let his dog out just came onto his balcony and asked if i could see the moon. i told him how close it is to maximum eclipse. then he asked if i'd seen his dog. he hasn't come out to see the eclipse, and it's not visible from the balconies. i can't believe anyone wouldn't want to see this if they were awake for it.
silly people.
and we are just about at maximum eclipse, right on time. amazing. i have never seen anything quite like it. i guess it's time to wrap this up, though, although i think i'll stay out here and watch a bit longer. it would be a pity to miss a moment of it. this has been meredith reporting from a parking lot in the south austin. g'night, everybody.
