“I was particularly struck by the change of colour in the sky, which had been gradually losing its azure blue and assuming an indigo tint”

Warren de la Rue experiencing a solar eclipse in Spain, 1860.

In less than four weeks, one million people will converge over the Oregon Territory to witness a two minute event — a total solar eclipse.

While I am encouraged that so much humanity would travel to the day-turned-night phenomena, I wonder whether these same folks are awed by the daily changing of the celestial guard, the revelation of night and the newness of day.  While the eclipse moon will cover el sol enough to bring out the stars, today’s setting sun may bloom an array of hues, while a gradual descent into the horizon will etch sea, mountain or city in luminous quiet beauty.

What attracts the throngs to pay visit: the rarity of 18-year solar eclipse intervals, being part of a million man and woman sit and start in, or cynically, an insatiable craving for novelty?

Experiencing nature, we tend to grow tired of repetitive encounters; an initial buzz of viewing a herd of elk too quickly dulls to ho hum, there they are again.

What happens next and forever when the stellar show is over?  Will we return to the outdoors for further exploration?  Will we prioritize additional life adventures?

We can only hope that a moment of darkness will illuminate a brighter future. ~