Totality--I Finally Get It Now

We went to Arkansas to get into the path of totality during the April 8th total solar eclipse.  Matt had been dreaming about it since he saw the totality in Wyoming on August 21, 2017.  

When I get really excited I tend to do a headstand.  It's an excellent way to burn off excess energy.  Matt is doing a "reverse headstand" along with me in this photo.  We were absolutely giddy with eclipse delight.  Photo credit to Val.

That totality, man!  What a sight to behold!!  It was the coolest nature experience I've ever had!  There is no way I can convey how it felt, how it looked.  (But I won't let that stop me from trying!)

The dogwood trees were in bloom.

I know there isn't a way to explain it with words and photos because Matt tried to get me to understand how astonishing and surreal totality is for the past six years!  Even as we were flying to Arkansas I told him I was exceedingly curious to see how different 100% totality would be versus 95%.  In 2017 I couldn't get time off work to join Matt in Wyoming so I saw 95% totality here at home. I am sure Matt was rolling his eyes mentally, but he just told me he was excited for me to find out for myself.  

The sunset over Bull Shoals Lake.

It turns out, it was 100% different.  I will lean into some hyperbole and say it is 10,000% different, actually.  They were completely different experiences.  That is not an exaggeration.  Totally different things.  (Totality different, as my pal Hannah might say.)

Happy eclipse campers!  Matt, me (proudly displaying my eclipse glasses), Val, and her daughter, Marley.

Don't get me wrong, it was super rad to see 95% coverage during the 2017 total solar eclipse.  My friend April, her amazing daughters, and I went out of town and had a picnic and watched the moon's progress through our eclipse glasses.  It was remarkable to watch the sun gradually go dark until there was just the tiniest sliver of the sun left in our viewing glasses.  It made the sun look like the moon because of its crescent shape.  When we looked at the rimcountry around us, the light seemed more like eveningtime and the air cooled a bit, as if a cloud lingered over the sun.  It was certainly irregular and cool.  April and I toasted a glass of champagne and marveled at the Universe.  It was lovely.  

An alternate way to watch the progress of the moon involves using a colander.  The sun shines through the holes and the crescent shape of the sun as it is partially obstructed by the moon is visible in the shadow it casts.  We mostly watched the show through our eclipse glasses, but this was neat to see, too.

At the Lakeside Campground at Bull Shoals Lake we had all that coolness...and then some!

Bull Shoals Lake with the dam in the distance.

The shadows became extra fine.  We could see every hair on Matt's arm in clear relief on the concrete.  The shadow of the leaves splintered on the ground.  They seemed disjointed.  My eyes weren't sure how to focus!  

Fractured leaf shadows.  That's not out of focus.  That's just what it looked like!

During totality--at 100% coverage--it is like being transported elsewhere.  Surreal.  Otherworldly.   Val said she felt like she was surrounded by a sunset which is an artful way to describe it.  It wasn't eveningtime light--not the blue hour.  It was a quality of light I had never seen before--almost a little spooky.  The light seemed thicker than usual; I want to say hazy, but that's not quite right.  It was almost like the air was blueyellowpurple colored, like a bruise, but in a supernatural way.   I expected totality to be amazing, but I was not prepared for the heights of wonder that I witnessed.  It was a singularly spectacular sight.  

This photo almost manages to capture some of the odd color to the sky as totality approached.  The shadows were so distinct.  So much contrast.

It was a sunny, warm day in Arkansas that got cooler and cooler as the moon covered the face of the sun.  At totality, the temperature dropped noticeably.  I was suddenly chilly!  The birds stopped singing.  Were they puzzled?  Did they think it was nighttime already?  I wonder!  

Marley took this photo on her phone during totality.  The sky was never that dark, but the moon was!

I couldn't stop saying, "OhhhhMYgosh.  OHHHHHHHmygosh.  OhmyGOSH," over and over again as I stared into the sun.

Matt wore his space shirt for the eclipse.  There is a totality depicted on the fabric near his right elbow.  I love that he thought of packing "theme" clothing for the occasion.

Being able to look directly at the sun was a crazy thing.  The moment the moon slid completely in front of the sun we ripped off our eclipse glasses to gaze into the blackhole sun of wonder!!!  Photos sorta make it look like a black circle superimposed on the sun. Which...it is...I guess...but I've yet to see a photo that captures what I saw.  The way I was able to see the fire of the corona.  The power!  The colors!  There was a flare of magenta that caught me totally by surprise.  The movement of the corona was like a tide, ebbing and flowing here and there.  The immense power of the sun was visible to the naked eye in a concrete, undeniable way.  

Playing a little forest kubb.  We'd stop every few minutes and watch the sun gradually getting brighter and bigger again in our eclipse glasses.

After the climax, Val and I cried.  Val said, "Something came over me and it started in my heart and spread to my whole body. I held it in, but the tears came when it was over."  When that sun started peeking back out again I was overwhelmed.  I wasn't ready for the totality to be over.  It was about 2.5 minutes long at Bull Shoals.   I wanted more!  Matt said it had been even shorter where he was in Wyoming back in 2017.  

The water was cold, but refreshing!

We all hugged.  Me and Matt.  Val and Marley.  Me and Marley.  Val and Matt.  Marley and Matt.  It was quite the experience to share and everyone seemed grateful for it.  We played some kubb while the moon finished out the journey.  Soon it was just another beautiful, sunny afternoon in the Ozarks.  We walked down to the lake and hung out on the dock.  

It was a seat with a view!  Photo credit to Marley.

I told Val that I thought totality was cooler than the Redwoods.  Cooler than the Grand Canyon.   I could get in my car and drive to either of those places right now.  I could stare into the canyon or up at the trees until I'd had my fill.  I could go back and do it again the next day.   The transient, opportunistic brevity of the blackhole sun makes it top my list.  Now I have to travel or wait to experience that euphoria again.  Even then, it could be a cloudy day and we could miss seeing the majesty regardless.

A lake shore still life.

That makes this experience even more precious to me.  What a gift!  We had basically no control over anything except getting ourselves to the right place at the right time.  The eclipse played out for us framed by a clearing in the oak forest canopy without interference from the clouds that had come and gone all day.  It was perfect.

April 8th was a two headstand day!  :)  It was a pretty gosh darn exciting day and we'd be dreaming and planning it for so long.

I kept calling it a "once-in-a-lifetime" experience, but that's not technically true.  I hope this was just my first!  Matt has already experienced two totalities.  I could fly to Spain in 2026.  The next eclipse visible in America will be in 20 years.  It comes right through Montana.  Val and I have a date penciled in for that already.  Ha!  I understand how people become umbraphiles now.  

Sitting around our campfire at the end of a very good day.