The eclipse of 2017

Photo from National Geographic.


So we had an eclipse today.

Did you hear about it? More likely, did you see it?

I did. Or as much as one could around here anyway. In the Chicago area we only had about 80% darkness. A thick covering of rain-rich clouds added to the effect but obscured much of the eclipse itself. Didn't bother me as I didn't expect much from the whole affair. No glasses for me and I certainly didn't poke holes in any cereal boxes. If anything, I anticipated a sky that would amount to little more than a cloudy day. That's why I was so shocked when I stepped outside.

It was eerie. None of the natural light seemed...right. I noticed a drop in temperature from an hour earlier and a spike in humidity. As I walked through a parking lot, I looked over at someone else. He looked up at the sky and then glanced about our surroundings. He caught me looking. We both smirked and exchanged expressions seeming to convey, "weird, right?" There was a haze in the air, completing the almost paranormal sense of displacement, of shifting into a parallel world that looks like ours but isn't quite.

Shadows formed in strange ways on the ground. These shadows are a source of speculation in astronomy. It's thought by many that these shadows are due to turbulence in the atmosphere. Another school of thought says that they may be formed by sound. "Infrasound" to be exact. That's sound at a frequency too low for human ears to hear. Remember I said it felt cooler? From BBC: "This rapid cooling of the air sets up a difference in pressure. The potential energy associated with this pressure difference then escapes as high-intensity infrasound."

That's one notion, anyway. As I got in my car, passed by other vehicles with their headlights on and driving in what amounted to twilight conditions, it was easy for me to see how this phenomena has been associated with the occult since time immemorial. If someone didn't know what was going on, they might be forgiven for heading to the nearest church, dropping to their knees, and asking for absolution for all the petty crimes and misdemeanors of life before the end finally arrives. I halfway feared we'd be hearing by now about some cult somewhere whose members chose to commit mass suicide via cyanide-laced pudding during this astronomical event. I told this to someone and they said we should try to find them and stop them before it's too late. She joked that we should call shoe stores and check their stock. "Black Nikes. You got 'em? What, you sold out? When? Where?" That is of course a Heaven's Gate joke.

Flat Earthers are having quite a time of it. They appear honestly befuddled by the powerful yet well-understood astronomical occurrence we call an eclipse. My personal choice for the most disturbing quote from that article? "I really, really don't know what the moon is."

Shudder.

Looking back on the positive side, this was a welcome respite. The eclipse led the news headlines all morning, radio stations served up themed songs for an eclipse soundtrack, and someone shipped Bonnie Tyler out on a cruise ship to the point of totality where she could belt out her hit in the middle of the Atlantic. The Adler Planetarium was packed. Kids were outside learning about astronomy and I saw neighbors interacting with each other who seldom wave hello on any other day. For once, nobody was focused on politics or any of the other awful things in the world. It was something really positive and if you want to see what I mean, look no further than Chicago's very own Tommy Skilling. 

I hope we don't have to wait for the 2024 eclipse to feel that way again.




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