Posted tagged ‘eclipse’

“It was one of those humid days when the atmosphere gets confused. Sitting on the porch, you could feel it: the air wishing it was water.”

August 22, 2017

My neighbor came by with eclipse glasses so I got to see the partial eclipse we had here. It was so very cool to watch the moon move across the sun and darken the day just a bit.  Two things jumped into my head from my memory drawers. I was reminded of when I was young, and we used negatives to look through at the eclipse. I have no idea if they were all that safe but figure they must have been as I didn’t go blind. I don’t even remember if there were warnings. Now, of course, there are no negatives. The second memory was of reading A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court. Our Yankee is sentenced to be burned at the stake but is saved by magic, or at least what King Arthur thinks is magic but is really an eclipse. He, the Yankee, said he’d blot out the sun, and it happened as he’d predicted because our hero had remembered the eclipse. I would have been burned at the stake.

Today is supposed to be hot and humid. When I went to get the papers and take Gracie to the backyard, I could feel the humidity, and it was still early, usually a cooler time. Right now it’s cloudy and breezy, but that humidity is hanging in there.

When I was waiting for my coffee to brew, I saw a feeder moving back and forth and knew it was a spawn of Satan. I could see its tail and knew it was the worst off them all, a red spawn. It was inside the keep the spawn away wire and was dining on seed. I sneaked over to the feeder. The spawn saw me and jumped to the rail, but I was there so it fell to the ground, two floors away. The spawn’s fall scared the doves feeding from the ground, and they flew into the air. The birds at the feeders were spooked so they too took off. The whole thing was a comedy of errors with birds flying everywhere.

I have to go out in a bit, and the sun just made a quick in and out entrance. Right now it’s among the missing. I’m glad. I figure the humidity is enough to make for a dismal day without adding more heat.

“Autumn flings her fiery cloak over the sumac, beech and oak.”

September 28, 2015

Woe is me! Woe is me! My back was terrible yesterday, last night and this morning. I maneuvered by holding on to stuff as I moved. Last night I woke up several times when I heard moaning. No ghosts or spirits, just me. This morning you’d have sworn Quasimodo, Igor and I were blood relations sharing the same handicap. I was grouchy and miserable.

Now I am finally feeling better. The pain cream and the Aleve worked liked magic. Though I am not completely upright I no longer resemble the left side of the evolution chart.

The eclipse last night was awesome in the true definition of the word. I watched it all from the front of my house where I had an unobstructed view as the moon darkened. I was mesmerized when the blood moon appeared and lit up the sky. It was if the moon and the sky around it had been painted with water colors.

Today is the loveliest of days, sunny and warm. Rain is due the next few days, but it will be welcomed as we haven’t seen much rain since the summer began. Besides, this has been such a spectacular fall I can’t begrudge Mother Nature a bit of rain.

We used to iron the colored leaves between pieces of waxed paper. I didn’t understand why it happened. I just knew the wax paper kept the colors alive. I’d keep the leaves on my bureau as keepsakes. Sometimes I’d even use one as a bookmark. I think the bright red was my favorite color but the yellow was close behind. We’d pick the leaves up our way home from school and put them between the pages of our books so they wouldn’t get wrinkled. The single ones on the sidewalk were the best as the ones in the piles along the curbsides would crumble.

I could hardly wait to get home and change into play clothes. At the kitchen table, now transformed into a craft table, my mother would turn on the iron then tear off pieces of wax paper for us to use. I remember gliding the iron back and forth across the paper, and I remember when the leaves were captured by the melting wax. Every one was beautiful.

“Nobody can hurt me without my permission.”

April 15, 2014

I saw the eclipse early this morning but not the red moon. I went on the deck, but the tree branches hid the moon so I watched from my upstairs bathroom window. Neither Fern nor Gracie who were sleeping on my bed cared. They just got more comfortable.

It was a rainy grey morning, but the sun is now struggling to come out and the day is brightening. The cold, though, will be back and the next few nights will be in the 30’s. I don’t care as long as it doesn’t snow.

The Boston Marathon bombings were one year ago today. All three local networks are dedicating their programming to the events of that day and the year since then. The most poignant event was earlier this morning when a wreath was hung at the site of the first bomb. Henry and Jane Richard hung the wreath. Their brother Martin died at that spot and Jane, who’s now an eight year old, lost her leg. A police honor guard now stands beside that wreath and another honor guard stands beside the other wreath at the site of the second bombing. Interviews of survivors show their amazing strength and resilience. Many lost limbs. One who did is dancing again. Many runners, some running for the first time, are dedicating next week’s marathon to raising funds in honor of the victims. What continues to amaze me about the event is the total lack of empty rhetoric. People never ranted for vengeance. They spoke of solace and hope, of being united and of putting their grief into something positive. Survivors spoke of their pain and proudly described their progress. I watched a woman who lost both legs run for the first time in rehab on her new running prosthetics. Next Monday just as they always have the runners will start from Hopkinton, they will struggle up heartbreak hill and almost sprint when the finish line comes into view. They will hear the cheering crowds who applaud and encourage every runner. This marathon is special in its sameness.