Imagine, if you will, an orange and gray misty sky. The gray comes from the clouds and fog; the orange from air pollution and reflected city lights. Now imagine a part of that orange and gray sky was lighter with a diffuse glow, the origin of which is almost imperceptible behind the clouds. A few hours later, that diffuse light dimmed. One could not know if the light dimmed because of thickening clouds or diminishing light. That was my eclipse experience. Sorry folks, no photos.
I live in a city that boasts over 300 clear days and nights per year. That’s an 82% chance of good eclipse viewing conditions. Sadly, last night was one of those 18% where I could not see squat*. Bummer. If you want to see cool eclipse photos, search out someone else’s blog. All I’ve got is this sob story.
*I didn’t exactly see squat. While waiting for the clouds to break, I spent the evening at the neighborhood bar drinking beer as a means of staying true to my geologist heritage. Every half hour or so, I would step outside and look up, only to see clouds. But, when I say I saw “squat”, I am talking about in the sky. Inside the bar, there was plenty to see and interact with. You see, when the heavens combine to bring an eclipse on the night of the winter solstice, a special breed of drunken entertainment emerges from the houses and apartments. Sky watching was miserable; but the people watching was first rate!