For someone who enjoys sky-watching, I’m not very attuned to where I need to be for stuff.
Granted, I’d been told the aurora might visit NOVA a few days ago – so I was justified in hanging out in the freezing windblown chill, waiting for a rain of illumination above (no cigar). But had I studied up a little more on the who, what, and when (I may’ve missed a few inquisitive dubyaz there) of today’s solar eclipse, I’d’ve known that the Europeans were getting front row tix to the show, not us. (The bastards, they get everything – from good fashion to distinguished accents – even Cockney sounds better than Southern swamp drawl) Here I was, planning a whole photo hunt a couple days ago, and imagine my surprise when I log online and read it’ll be at five-forty-someth.
In the A.M.
Across the pond.
While I hope someone else was dumb as me, thinking we’d see it here, I’m not holding my breath for confirmation.
Or for the next eclipse for that matter. Wanna know why? ‘cause even if the cosmos had (literally) aligned just right to not-shine above our patch of dirt on this water ball for a couple’ve hours today, there’s one star in that performance that would’ve missed the curtain call: the actual sun. Because of today’s weather. Yep. It’s decided to slizzle (that’s my new Snoopian style word for “slushy sleet drizzle”) Which means I could’ve been outside, camera in hand, and at most I’d’ve seen this dismal day get a few clicks darker (I dunno; never actually gotten to see one, so I guess that’s what happens when you set a lunar pick on the sun). Because today’s cosmic menu’s been a steady blanket of battleship grey stratified cloud quilt eclipsing everything happening outside the earth-o-sphere anyway.
Alright, so we’re 0 for 0 on aurora in Virginia.
And 0 for 0 on solar eclipse (info I should’ve known ahead’a time #derp).
Maybe the same on the super-moon tonight if it stays this cloudy.
And – as for the equinox rays shining in all perpendicular – with these clouds, it looks like I’m striking out yet again.
But we don’t settle for failure-wallowing here in MAPsLand, do we? Certainly not. We enlist Plan B. Thus, the way I see it is: if I’m gonna celestially strike out – I’mma make it a bowling strike – not a baseball one. That’s right. I’ll HAVE my occluded-ray entertainment! I’ll have my eclipse! Nay, I’ll rip the prism from the periphery of the planet and craft my own slain-light show! THIS.IS.STAR-TA!!!!1 Which is why I’m turning today’s #30daysofnewthings I poorly planned out, into a Pinterest game I intend to employ come nightfall. And I shall call it… Glowlar Eclipse. Why settle for seeing our planet’s satellite plug up just one ever-yellow star in the sky, when you can create ten like some deviant deity delivering stars from her celestial womb – in a vast array of illuminated hues, no less – only to smite them with a flattened basketball?
Boom. Rainbow Deci-clipse.
I intend to recruit the entirety of my family for this outdoor event this evening.
(They need the levity. They just don’t know it yet.)
If any of you are reading this, I expect you to arrive at promptly 7:30 P.M. for the opening ceremonies.
Slizzle or not.