I’m prepping trips and star parties this week, alongside lectures for our annual astronomy retreat in Lewis, NY (a few spots still available! PM me) Some insights are happening…
I’m encountering “Is your glass half empty, or half full?” attitudes across the board, along with the occasional “Why is your glass so poorly engineered?” from the hard-core science/engineering cohort. If you’ve ever done ANYTHING outdoors with me, you know I am a bit of a Pollyanna. The less set and certain a decision or environment the happier I get. It beats the alternative. Why be grumpy when you can be happy?
During our recent (April 8) solar totality in Plattsburgh, the run-in to the actual event was rife with people second guessing themselves about what to do, where to be, what to be, and how to do. I went cold-turkey on weather reporting 14 days out. Me knowing what a computer said has very little to do with anything: I have gear for the expected conditions -30F, and an excellent set of Mark 2 eyeballs. I was also extremely lucky to stay home: the dismal forecast for potential viewing in Plattsburgh on (E-7 years, E-300 days, E-21 days) flipped rapidly on E-15, and people started flocking. An acquaintance at American Paperwear in Arkansas, producer of the millions of pairs of eclipse glasses heading towards the Southwest for months, had to rapidly pivot for vendors in the Northeast. He confessed that he hadn’t seen a weather report for weeks because they were so busy. Pure Bliss.
The frenzy intensifies, and the sky (potentially) fills a little bit more! Having and sticking to a plan let me rationally advise folk (#mapsmarked). The months were filled with lectures and interviews in local news shows, podcasts, and even a national publication (#talestold), all the while setting up solar observations anytime and anyplace: library, yard, or street corner (#starsgazed). On the day we would set up OOMPAH 8″ and Enterprise 16″ at the free City of Plattsburgh Beach Party with Natty B, boy Sault, and I. “What will you do if it’s not visible???”, I hear loads. Just what I’m doing. See Pollyanna thought, above. I also do surreptitious Sun Salutations between events and interviews. One picture in the New York Times has me sitting on the tailgate of N-B’s SmartCar with OOMPAH under an overcast sky. No matter. On the day it will be glorious.
In the event, my imagery is not up to the event lol. No matter. Many other friends and folks are catching it, and we are there for the gasps and awe. Before we even get the car unloaded (0740) nervous questions are shouted. “What f-stop should I use” (?) “Is this the best Place to see the Eclipse?” (Where are you from? Ecuador!?! Pull up a chair) “Do you have a filter my husband can use? He left his in Long Island.” (Yes) As I field these, Sault takes over the viewing narrative easily (he’s helped me for years) and we try to talk to, and help to solar-view, many hundreds of giddy beachgoers: 400+ at the scope, 1000+ in conversation from the more than 8500 in the crowd. At this point I consider the day successful. Even if the gathering icy haze was thicker than perfection required, my heart and my sky were absolutely full.
One man pushes between me and the small child I am helping on the ladder to ask why I think this is a) the place to be, and b) where I think HE should be?!? Answers were a) look up and around (which puzzled him) and b) Maine. If you hurry, you can catch the next ferry. He hurried off, and the child’s mom gave me a smile and a bar of artisanal dark chocolate. A minus for my karma, and a plus from gratitude, so an even break.
I will ALWAYS expect a positive outcome in EphemerADK adventures, especially sky-gaze ones. Upcoming events around the Adirondacks, Quechee VT for the Perseids in August, and at Isle la Motte Vineyards in September. Come and join us and fill your glass!