Here Comes The Sun, The Moon, The Stars

We did a thing. We’ve never been to Vermont, so we decided to drive to Vermont (from Colorado, yes) to watch the total eclipse. On the way, we picked up my bestie from 4th grade, Judy, and the three of us traveled around Vermont, and had an amazing experience watching the sun wink out for approximately 3-1/2 minutes.

This blog could go a dozen different ways - the challenge of our housesitter’s arrival from California; having to leave our hotel on Montpelier, VT and go somewhere else (that is a looooong, story); the dreadful motel we stayed in on the way out (I’m talking scary and we seriously looked for bedbugs); the huge snowstorm that hit Vermont before we arrived (by the time we got there the snow was almost gone).

But I’m going to focus instead on the experience of the eclipse. We got some intel that our original idea of going to Burlington, VT, would be a VERY BAD IDEA, especially for people like us who think a dozen is a crowd. So we consulted a paper map (!) and the Oracle (the GPS), and found our way to a place called Lake Camri State Park, north of Burlington and 8 miles from the Canadian border. Some other people had the same idea, AND none of them liked crowds bigger than a dozen either, so we all stayed pretty separate from one another. 

The day was gorgeous - blue skies, with just a hint of clouds in the afternoon. 

Pussy Willows in the Open Field

As we sat in an open field, the moon started moving in front of the sun, and a bird started its evening song. Just a few chirps, and then it was as though it either decided it had made a mistake or it went to sleep, because the sound stopped. 

The thing about eclipse lighting is that it is so different from a sunset or sunrise. It gets dimmer and dimmer. No particular glow on the grasses, merely less and less color in the surroundings until suddenly (and I do mean suddenly) BOOP! The light goes out. The sky took on a pink tinge toward the horizon, unexpected. We could still see. But it was dark.

I am a high feeler, but even that didn’t prepare me for the emotion I felt looking at the moon in front of the sun. I was in tears. People were shouting and whooping, which has always annoyed me, but I realized this is how they were dealing with the emotions around this emotional event, and I let it go. The animals were silent. There had been some dogs with their people and they got very quiet when the sun winked out.

it was profound. I did a little prayer to the animals of the four directions - flexible Serpent to the South, protector Jaguar to the West, joyful Hummingbird to the North, and magnificent Eagle/Condor to the East. I was so overwhelmed I completely forgot the other two directions I usually pray to, Mother Earth below and Sky above. I’m sure they forgave me.

All the planets were in a row as well, and I saw Jupiter and Venus very clearly. Couldn’t find the others, even though I had a “map”.

There was a pink “dot” at the sort of 6:30 position on the moon/sun disk - learned later it was a solar flare. 

And then the world came back to life.

Nature is amazing. An event like an eclipse is a strong indicator of how small and insignificant we are, and how it can affect us in magical ways. Everything is different; everything has changed. And I pray that Spirit will guide me on the path I’m to follow.

 Milk Weed. Haven’t seen this in years.