I admit I was a touch cynical yesterday at the implied urgency to go outside and catch the lunar eclipse. The big news was that it would be the last chance to see such a thing until 2010, which is, you know, A WHOLE TWO YEARS AWAY. “Gee,” I thought, “I’d better take a long hard look at the calendar too, February 20th, and enjoy it while I can, because the next time the date will have a zero in it won’t be until March 10th.”
Last night at about a quarter after six, I grabbed the dogs and a few Sierras and rolled down to the bluff at White Point to close the day out with our usual homegrown Happy Hour. The scheduled eclipse wasn’t the point of the outing, but more of a coincidental supplement to a nightly routine.
It had been cloudy all day long, ironically eclipsing our chances of seeing that night’s eclipse, but the day’s end brought some gnarly Pacific Ocean winds, blowing all the clouds away. The sky was as clear as ever from our vantage point, and we had what I was convinced to be the best seat in Southern California.
There’s something fundamentally profound about standing on a planet as it aligns with its sun and moon at the same time. The experience makes you feel very alive, and very aware of the Now. As a bonus, Saturn decided to join our party too, showing herself just above the moon. The whole shebang was like poetry in the sky.
How typically sad it was to realize that millions of people chose to stay inside and watch American Idol instead.
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