I am guessing that there are going to be a few eclipse posts this Poetry Friday!  Head over to Jone Rush MacCulloch's blog to see what others have written on this fun topic and to catch Jone's interviews with Carol Labuzzetta and Liz Garton Scanlon.

Here we are getting ready for the big viewing:

I had already prepped my high-tech viewing device (a piece of cardboard poked with a pin):

Here is a time lapse of what the pinhole view looked like.

Start of the eclipse (holes are pretty much round):

2:36 PM (f you zoom in you can see a little slice missing from the bottom left of the circles):

At 2:47, a little bigger slice is gone:

At 2:52, about half is gone:

At 3:12, just a skinny slice remains:

And at 3:35, the crescent had flipped location as the eclipse passed peak:

It was such an interesting experience to feel the temperature drop rapidly and watch the outdoor lighting turn gray.  Even the light that filtered through the shrubs made crescent-shaped patterns:

Maybe this is just my crazy talking, but I swear the air smelled different (like ozone) during the eclipse too.  Did anyone else notice this?  … No? …  Humph.

The local TV meteorologist said that animals might react to the eclipse.  My dog didn’t notice a thing – except that we were eating cheese and crackers and she wanted to collect her usual “Cheese Tax.”  [Aside: My daughter informed me that the Cheese Tax is a common phenomenon.  See this PSA for more information: Cheese Tax]

Now, I haven't written an ACROSTIC poem in ages, but why not have a go at it for this special occasion?


Excitement ripples quietly.
Children poke cereal boxes,
Letting in pinpricks of sunlight.
I stand ready in goofy glasses.
Pets sniff the cooling breeze.
Something is truly amiss.
Everyone anticipates - darkness.

Photos and poem (c) Tracey Kiff-Judson, 2024


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