Imprinted by the universe
A left through sunflowers. A right through grasslands. Past a mint old pickup jockeyed by a wide grinned farmer. A trail of dust behind us, as we went.
They said half a million people would be there, but we saw no one for miles. A fork in the road, a hill at our backs. We stopped there.
The warm sand seeped into my shoes as I churned my way up, lifted by the growing breeze. Five stories high, infinitely more overhead.
Like the eye of our solar system, the sun became a pupil, dilated heavily, as it absorbed the light. The ceiling went first, and then the horizon, as a soft blue melted into a pastel painting of Neapolitan delight.
Out of a sea of grass, a tsunami grew. And as the giant inhaled, the air went too. No north, no south, no east, no west. Just here.
Minutes took hours, and seasons went. All the while, no one blinked. Imprinted by the universe.
Sceptics will say they didn't miss much, and over enthusiasts will tell you that it changed their lives. But I'm here to tell you the truth. Seeing a total solar eclipse is humbling, it's captivating, and it’s impossible to fully articulate. But so is life, the amazing planet that will live on, and the universe that we live in. The very experiences that we have, and the people that we share them with.
It'll be 18 months until the next solar eclipse, and thousands before it returns to this same spot, if that day ever comes. But life is constant. The sun rises and sets each and every day, yet how often do you look? Unfortunate events, shitty jobs, bad relationships, and a litany of other distractions can cloud our view without us knowing. But no matter how bad things get, life is still beautiful.
So, would I recommend seeing a total solar eclipse? Absolutely I would. In fact, I've already got plans to see the next national one as it cuts through my home state of Texas in 2024. But in the meantime, the 2,415 days, the 57,960 hours, the 3,477,600 minutes, until then, I'll remain captivated. By life.
*for best experience, pair with "Take Care" by Tom Rosenthal*