Eclipse Inside the Whirling Rainbow of Peace

"My father says that almost the whole world is asleep. Everybody you know. Everybody you see. Everybody you talk to. He says that only a few people are awake and they live in a state of constant total amazement."
- From the film Joe Versus the Volcano.

Of course, as you might have imagined, I plotted and schemed as to how I might photograph the great American full solar eclipse of 2017. I didn't have any special glasses, nor a filter for my camera. The planets aligned for me, however, as they often do. Isn't the world just full of magic?

I saw an announcement that the PSU Astronomy folks would be hosting an eclipse viewing party at the Arboretum, one of my favorite places in the world. They would be near the Sundial, providing a limited number of solar eclipse glasses, which they recommended that we all take turns and share. And so I decided I would go.

So I planned to work in the office Monday, and take an hour of vacation time in the afternoon sometime around the peak viewing time here (about 70% coverage locally, which would occur just after 2:30 p.m.) to go and see the show.

But early in the afternoon, clouds rolled in. Oh no! And then alerts began to be issued for warnings of severe thunderstorms! But I grabbed my umbrella, my camera, and my car keys, and walked out the door.

It was, to be honest, the most crowded experience I've ever had at the Arboretum. But I was ready for it. They were parking cars down behind the red elm when I arrived. I'd never seen cars in that field before, but I gladly followed the car in front of me. And then it was like Woodstock - everyone walking, walking toward the Sundial.

Thunder rumbled around us, and suddenly raindrops began to fall. The crowd was disappointed. Would our view of the eclipse be rained out? I put up my umbrella, and others did too.

I walked around taking pictures of the crowds: people of all ages and sizes and colors and nationalities, sitting together, ready to watch the show. There were people with every contrivance known to man: pin-hole things, boxes on their heads, glasses of all kinds.

The rain stopped. The clouds parted. Out came the sun! The crowd went wild! There was clapping and cheering. We were going to get to see it after all! People were passing glasses all around. I borrowed a pair. I watched as the sun and the moon become one.

There were way too few pairs of glasses, to be sure, but it was like the miracle of the loaves and the fishes: everyone shared, and in the end, there was enough for all.

I made my way to the lily pond, because I had some idea that even without a filter for my camera, I might be able to get some reflection shots there. Other people had the same idea.

The clouds came and went, thunder rumbled in the distance, and I snapped away. The temperature dropped a few degrees. A rainbow halo appeared around the sun. I took this photo just before 2:30 p.m., a few minutes before the peak.

The sun halo is also referred to by some native peoples as the whirling rainbow of peace. I have seen it only on a few occasions; once before, quite notably, on a frosty morning at Millbrook.

Scientists will tell you that the beautiful round rainbow is caused by sunlight filtered through water crystals or water droplets. That is true, of course, but I think their description is missing a little something; methinks it is missing the magic.

To some native cultures, the appearance of a sun halo is a sign of peace among all nations. I won't go into a lot of those details, but you may read more about the whirling rainbow of peace at this link. I'll include just one quote from that page here:

"The Rainbow Race stresses equality and opposes the idea of a superior race that would control or conquer other races. The Rainbow Race brings peace through the understanding that all races are one.

The unity of all colors, all creeds working together for the good of the whole, is the idea that is embodied in the Whirling Rainbow. When all pathways to wholeness are respected by all cultures, the prophecy of the Whirling Rainbow will be completed."

So I must show you my own view of the eclipse, just as I saw it reflected on the lily pond, one of the most beautiful places I know of. The eclipse, an amazing celestial event, was captured inside the whirling rainbow of peace. :-)

I must also give a shout-out on this day to the fans of the movie Ladyhawke. If you have seen it, you know that an eclipse plays a significant role in the story.

A friend of mine posted on Facebook a photo of the two story leads from the film embracing, along with the quote, "Another evil bishop's curse is now broken somewhere in North America."  That made me smile.

And of course, some of you may recall my own little Ladyhawke, the life I tried to save, but couldn't. So I remember and honor her as well, on this special day.

I'll give you TWO songs for this amazing day. One is the tune that many of us were singing all day long: the awesome 1983 Bonnie Tyler song, Total Eclipse of the Heart. For the lovers of peace, I include this tune as well: Peter Gabriel, Don't Give Up. 

And this ends with a prayer; it ends with hope.
That the world may know peace in our lifetimes . . .
May the work of our hearts and hands make it so.

Amen.