By: Blonde Two
“The moon’s up and the sun’s down,
And a thousand starry eyes have caught me crying.”
You will probably be much more impressed with the above quote if I told you that it was written by WB Yeates or mused upon by Kahlil Gibran, than if I admit that it is a line from my teenage self’s favourite Kids From Fame song.
I have always loved the moon; it more romantic and unpredictable, I think, than the stars. Tomorrow, it is set to prove once again, that it can even master the sun. Maybe my fascination comes partly from it seeming so close, but being so ‘out in space’. Walking in the moonlight is a must at least a few times a year. I am convinced that the moon’s waxing and waning has as much of an impact on us people as on our planet. Men, I have decided, are particularly susceptible to a full moon; in my experience, full moon = full mood!
Today is hopefully going to be a good Moonday. Blonde One is at work (which is a big shame for me and her) but Not-At-All-Blonde and I are going eclipse-hunting on Dartmoor (of course). Hopefully, finding eclipses will be easier than finding eclipse glasses is proving to be. One thing is for sure, I know exactly where to find brunch afterwards!!
it’s a funny thing but watching an eclipse of the sun is actually a moving and haunting experience:
Conrad and I have form in this – in 1999, I persuaded him to stop off his journey to some Alpine triumph and come with me to Champagne (predicted to be the optimum location for totality at a civilised time of day, confident that there was no need to book accommodation as the blase and sophisticated French would not bother with something so childish: ha!
we ended up, after touring hostelries from the Somme to the Saone and being accorded disdainful desoles by haughty chatelaines without number, kipping out up a forest track above Epernay: next day dawned drizzling and cold.
After a quick croissant et cafe au lait, we thought we would get a better view if we went up to the Chemin des Dames (nearer the sun, you see) – but the Army of the Aisne had got there first and there was no room to park, not even a dugout to spare.
We set off south, and to our joy, as we passed Rheims, the clouds started to open: half way to Verdun, we stopped and witnessed the whole glorious, dramatic and spine-chilling (literally and metaphoric) process from a freshly mown cornfield a few km from the N44, the shining sky adorned with a few fluffy clouds hasting by on the wind : we celebrated – affirmation that bubbly does not travel well but Chardonnay does!
Was it worth it ? – you bet – so go out and see and be amazed and humbled in equal measure!
An awesome (in the original sense of the word) experience and Dartmoor gave us the modicum of cloud cover necessary to be able to view proceedings.
Yes!!!!!!! The clouds drifted slowly over grey skies just thin enough to give brief shadowy views of the eclipse – magic.
We saw it!!! Photos soon 🙂