I was going to title this post, “Eclipse”.
“Eclipse” was the headline online and in print before and after April 8, 2024. The total solar eclipse that occurs when the dark silhouette of the Moon completely obscures the bright light of the Sun was going to be either A) the end of the world as we know it, with hoards of outsiders streaming across Ohio to rob us all of our lives and livelihood. Or B) this natural phenomenon that occurs every 18 months or so somewhere in the world was going to be a great big ol’ treat, right here.
The actual title is offered in gratitude for something that brought a whole bunch of people together—in peace—for four awe-inspiring minutes. The total solar eclipse of 2024 brought people from across the United States to the gardens, creek bank and pasture of The Quarry Farm on April 8. People from Ohio, New Hampshire, Michigan, Indiana, North and South Carolina, and Virginia chose to view the phenomenon from the comfort of camp chairs, alongside the farm animal sanctuary residents, or hiking in the nature preserve.
One gentleman arrived after totality. He had driven here from Eugene, Oregon but heavy traffic held him at a Maumee River crossing. He pulled over to watch then drove south to Road 7L where he walked the trails and sampled eclipse baked goods in the summer kitchen bakery. I didn’t speak with him but others did. I wonder if he will make the trek down under for the next totality.
Board member Martha Erchenbrecher observed the behavior of Bruce the Turkey and K the Canada Goose during the eclipse. K took notice, bobbing his head in surprise. Bruce stayed still. Her observations were shared with the Solar Eclipse Safari Team of North Carolina State University and Arizona State University. We all noticed that both wild and domestic animals fell silent during totality. The farm animals headed for the barns but went back for more visitor attention at the fenceline.
As for me, I didn’t decide ahead of time where I would watch. A couple of hours before, I listened to an interview with a retired astrophysicist known as “Mr. Eclipse”. He has traveled far and wide to see the sun eclipsed completely and partially. He advised that, when the day and time of an eclipse arrives, one shouldn’t think too much about who you ought to be with or how you should view (other than to be safe about it.) One should just be in the moment. So as the moon began to block the sun from view, I found a pair of eclipse glasses that one of the hikers had dropped on the path to the prairie. I parked myself on a quarried boulder beside the quarry wetland. I could hear cheering from up in the gardens and Red Fox Cabin. The sound didn’t budge two turtles that were perched on a log, but the smaller of the two dove under when the astronomical curtain fell.
