Yesterday was a mixed day of frustrations and wonder.
Woke up at 7am for a 3 hour drive. Surprise! It was actually 5 hrs. Then, later, left for a 5-6 hr drive. Surprise! It took me 11 hours so I pulled into the drive at 1:30am.
All of these, of course, I did without a co-pilot to change my CDs, unwrap my snacks, switch between Waze and Google to compare alt routes and ETAs, or keep me away.
I drove 16 hours yesterday where I sobbed because my audiobook - The Fault of Our Stars - was so sad, went through rain to thick I couldn't see the semi-truck two cars in front of me, and only had one break for a meal, two breaks for pee, and avoided caffeine until 9pm because I'm some sort of secret solo-rider driver. That, or I have an unhealthy need to push my body to its limits.
(Remember kids - one of the biggest things about dark magic is the more you push your body/soul, make it ache and stutter, the greater your power grows!)
My parents kept checking in on my - calling every half hour, giving me alt route options, telling me in nearby exits had gas because next work sucks in rural Illinois - and the question came up a few times.
This is a huge, huge pain and hassle. Is what you sent to see for 2.5 hours worth it?
Considering that I got to see a total solar eclipse in Carbondale (The Eclipse Crossroads of America!) the answer is this:
Yes, very much so. But for the next one, I'm taking two days off and spending the night in a hotel.
I wish I had photos of the eclipse, other people certainly took a lot, but the truth is, it spellbound me. Watching the light go weird, the shadows get crisper, the shadow bands waving on white tarp paper, the orange glow of the crescent sun through my glasses. The whole crowd yelling at the clouds to move, get ou' the way!, and then the sudden darkness and silence. The feeling as if you had been transported somewhere strange, the sudden understanding of this is why the sun and moon are worshiped, this is what religion is based on and then crowd pivoting from silence to cheers and you look up without solar glasses and -
I will fully admit, I cried.
It was instinctual. I didn't mean too. I thought I'd cheer and whoop with the people around me, but I literally just stared at the sun and silently cried. I wish I could write poetry, cuz it needs a poem. But I would fail entirely. I can only tell you, it is beyond the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.
(If anyone knows a good eclipse poem, send me a link. It needs to be next to my redwood trees one)
The 360 sunset at 1:21pm was also stunning, the diamond ring effect was stunning but had me scrambling for my glasses because I thought I was gonna get blinded. But nothing can compare to the first look of the sun with my bare eyes and all the photos I've seen of it seem muted in comparison.
My awe stayed with me during my way to long drive home. Dry lightning behind layered and textured cloudscapes, showcasing the sweep and path of the wind. Full jagged bolts of lightening, surprisingly, in different colors. Red. Green. Blue. They served both as a means to keep me awake at 11pm, but also a distraction between I wanted nothing more than to watch. Fields stretching beyond my site, green and heavy with corn. Farm equipment with enough space between the road and the carriage for a school bus to pass under.
I'm not sure if it's awe, or long day catching up to me that affected my experience of the field of red lights. They were odd, blinking on and off together across both sides of the state highway. Airports don't blink. And then, getting closer, I realized that each time the red light flashed, right behind it would be a burst of flames. Really confused (or blurry-eyed) I stared harder into the darkness of midnight, and I think it was actually the red light reflecting off of moving wind turbines.
I hope, anyway. Fire-spurting towers in the middle of farm land is a nightmare waiting to happen. Or a story...
Regardless, despite the drag on my eyelids and lack of proper rest, food, and drink, I loved my trip to Carbondale. Problems and all. 12/10 would do it again in 2024.
Woke up at 7am for a 3 hour drive. Surprise! It was actually 5 hrs. Then, later, left for a 5-6 hr drive. Surprise! It took me 11 hours so I pulled into the drive at 1:30am.
All of these, of course, I did without a co-pilot to change my CDs, unwrap my snacks, switch between Waze and Google to compare alt routes and ETAs, or keep me away.
I drove 16 hours yesterday where I sobbed because my audiobook - The Fault of Our Stars - was so sad, went through rain to thick I couldn't see the semi-truck two cars in front of me, and only had one break for a meal, two breaks for pee, and avoided caffeine until 9pm because I'm some sort of secret solo-rider driver. That, or I have an unhealthy need to push my body to its limits.
(Remember kids - one of the biggest things about dark magic is the more you push your body/soul, make it ache and stutter, the greater your power grows!)
My parents kept checking in on my - calling every half hour, giving me alt route options, telling me in nearby exits had gas because next work sucks in rural Illinois - and the question came up a few times.
This is a huge, huge pain and hassle. Is what you sent to see for 2.5 hours worth it?
Considering that I got to see a total solar eclipse in Carbondale (The Eclipse Crossroads of America!) the answer is this:
Yes, very much so. But for the next one, I'm taking two days off and spending the night in a hotel.
I wish I had photos of the eclipse, other people certainly took a lot, but the truth is, it spellbound me. Watching the light go weird, the shadows get crisper, the shadow bands waving on white tarp paper, the orange glow of the crescent sun through my glasses. The whole crowd yelling at the clouds to move, get ou' the way!, and then the sudden darkness and silence. The feeling as if you had been transported somewhere strange, the sudden understanding of this is why the sun and moon are worshiped, this is what religion is based on and then crowd pivoting from silence to cheers and you look up without solar glasses and -
I will fully admit, I cried.
It was instinctual. I didn't mean too. I thought I'd cheer and whoop with the people around me, but I literally just stared at the sun and silently cried. I wish I could write poetry, cuz it needs a poem. But I would fail entirely. I can only tell you, it is beyond the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.
(If anyone knows a good eclipse poem, send me a link. It needs to be next to my redwood trees one)
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| Sunset colors in the afternoon! |
My awe stayed with me during my way to long drive home. Dry lightning behind layered and textured cloudscapes, showcasing the sweep and path of the wind. Full jagged bolts of lightening, surprisingly, in different colors. Red. Green. Blue. They served both as a means to keep me awake at 11pm, but also a distraction between I wanted nothing more than to watch. Fields stretching beyond my site, green and heavy with corn. Farm equipment with enough space between the road and the carriage for a school bus to pass under.
I'm not sure if it's awe, or long day catching up to me that affected my experience of the field of red lights. They were odd, blinking on and off together across both sides of the state highway. Airports don't blink. And then, getting closer, I realized that each time the red light flashed, right behind it would be a burst of flames. Really confused (or blurry-eyed) I stared harder into the darkness of midnight, and I think it was actually the red light reflecting off of moving wind turbines.
I hope, anyway. Fire-spurting towers in the middle of farm land is a nightmare waiting to happen. Or a story...
Regardless, despite the drag on my eyelids and lack of proper rest, food, and drink, I loved my trip to Carbondale. Problems and all. 12/10 would do it again in 2024.
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| Eclipse shadows. |
I saw it from Eddyville, Kentucky. It was beyond anything I was imagining!
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