No Eclipse Lasts Forever, Thankfully
"We make no wonder of the rising and the setting of the sun which we see every day; and yet there is nothing in the universe more beautiful, or worthy of wonder." --Gerald of Wales
In 2017, most of my family traveled to the Carolinas to experience the total solar eclipse together. For reasons I can’t remember, I stayed behind in Richmond, watching, fascinated, as the sun and moon decorated my backyard with little, dancing crescent moons of light.
Below is what I wrote immediately following the experience.
On August 21, 2017, the moon obscured 87% of the sun’s light in Richmond, Virginia. At the peak of the eclipse, what had been a bright blue sky became a muted, dull gray-blue, almost lavender. The clouds turned from crisp white to a subdued, creamy off-white. The air itself seemed to take on a color, that golden hue of sunsets. Little crescents of sunlight splashed the back of our house, blazed on the red hood of my car, danced on the lightly swaying hammock. The scene was so ethereal, so breathtaking, so singular, it brought tears to my eyes. So did the video my sister took, and shared with me a few hours after the eclipse.
My sister and her family, along with our parents, had gone to Greenville, South Carolina, to experience the total eclipse. In her video, people gather in a park. As the eclipse nears its peak, a shadow slowly creeps over the people in the park, and as near-total darkness envelopes them, they erupt in cheers and laughter and applause. Such beauty in the nature of it all. Such beauty in the science of it all. Such beauty in the unifying effect of the moment. Everyone gathered to share the experience. Everyone excited, awed—all together to witness history, science, precision, perfection. Both equally moving—the natural phenomenon and the social phenomenon. Mother nature, reminding us we are human, we are family, we are one—all in this together. All sharing this planet, all sharing this point in time, all sharing existence.
Later, I saw a news story on the eclipse. A woman told the reporter the eclipse was the most amazing thing she’d ever seen; she wished it could last forever. At first, I thought, “What a silly thing to wish, that the moon would forever hover in front of the sun—that we’d live in perpetual twilight.” After all, it’s the fleeting, other-worldly nature of the moment that lends it its novelty. But now I think I understand what she really meant. She wished the feeling of the moment, the atmosphere, would last forever. In these times of division and hatred and anger and polarization, she didn’t wish the actual eclipse would last forever; she wished for the permanence of the unity and the shared enthusiasm and the camaraderie it inspired. She wished for fear of the other to stop eclipsing love for each other. She wished for intolerance to stop blotting out acceptance, leaving brotherliness in shadow. She wished for hate to stop overshadowing love and compassion.
I’d like to think that someday, she’ll get her wish—that the divisiveness, the ignorance, the self-righteousness, and the myopia that have so long eclipsed the sunlight of stewardship, of love, of true neighborliness, will pass, and reveal the warmth of the sun again. And surely, it must. After all, no eclipse has ever lasted forever.
Another total eclipse happened yesterday, and it is not lost on me that our country is again on the precipice of another allegedly polarizing event: the presidential election—the same two major party candidates as last time almost certainly running again.
The next total eclipse with a coast-to-coast viewing area spanning the United States won’t occur until 2045 (incidentally, the year much of An Expected End takes place). I’ll be 61 years old, hopefully comfortably retired, hopefully with at least one more book out, hopefully living in a United States that more or less lives up to its name, watching a total, but temporary, eclipse of the sun with people I love.
Yesterday the eclipse swept a shadow across much of our country, and I hope it left in its wake a renewed sense of our shared humanity, an enlightened view of what is possible when we come together, that will last much longer than the darkness at which we marvel—precisely because it is so fleeting. Going forward, may unity be the usual. May compassion and considerateness be common. May neighborliness be the norm. May humanity, decency, and love be eclipsed only as rarely as is the sun, and as temporarily.
What I’m Working On
My Debut Novel: An Expected End
An episode of the 5 Minutes of Peace podcast featuring An Expected End dropped March 28. The piece is available here, or anywhere you listen to podcasts.
I’ve started a new promotional attempt on Instagram—reading a brief (roughly one-minute) excerpt of a chapter from An Expected End on the day it occurs in the book. I’m calling it “This Day in An Expected End.” So far, five installments are up, with the sixth coming out a week from today.
Finally, next week, when the registration window opens, I’ll apply for a spot at the Lancaster Community Library Author Expo, which takes place in July.
My Next Novel: Goodbye For Now
So far, I’ve made good on my commitment to reread as many pages of my manuscript as I assign my students to read for homework. In fact, many days, I’ve read more pages than I’ve assigned. Apparently, I just needed a system of accountability.
Outdoor Writing
In less than two weeks, the Littles, a couple friends, and I plan to head to the Eastern Shore of Virginia to view wild ponies from a pontoon boat for my May “ExploreMore” deadline.
Right before Easter, my story about Virginia State Parks’ Wandering Waters Paddle Quest, “Paddles, Puddles and the Great Outdoors: Exploring Virginia state parks by water,” ran in Cooperative Living Magazine.
Volunteering
The spring issue of the Bay Quarter Bulletin, the newsletter for Bay Quarter Shores, was successfully sent to community members last week.
Over the past two weeks, I’ve been finalizing the membership form and an RSVP form for the website of Virginia Outdoor Writers Association; helping proofread eblasts to send out to members; and working to update some settings on our Facebook page to make it more engaging, more accessible, more secure, and more interactive, including creating a private Facebook Group for VOWA members.
What I’m Reading
I’m about halfway through Nikki Erlick’s The Measure, a novel several people have likened to An Expected End. It’s extremely thought-provoking and interesting for multiple reasons, not the least of which is noting similarities to and differences between her book and mine.
Links to My Latest
“Paddles, Puddles and the Great Outdoors: Exploring Virginia state parks by water” appears in the “Explore More” column of the this month’s Cooperative Living Magazine.
Listen to a 5-minute podcast episode featuring An Expected End here, or anywhere you get your podcasts.
Archie and The Littles
Archie watches over the Littles while they nap.
Easter marked five months since we brought Archie home on Halloween. Below, he enjoys a perfect perch on the brim of Matty’s hat.
The Littles enjoy an afternoon walk on a trail near our home.
What I Saw Outside
Cherry blossoms and sun dog on Brown’s Island the Saturday before Easter
Apple blossoms at Pony Pasture on Easter
Trout lilies at Pony Pasture on Easter
Bluebells along the James River on Easter
Literary Calendar
September
September 19, 2024 | 4:00pm-6:00pm | Beer Dogs with Jackie McCool at Richbrau Brewing
Stay tuned for more details!