On Monday afternoon, April 8th – along with millions of others – I was in the long anticipated “path of totality” for a solar eclipse. I have never been in such a path before. I have seen pictures of a total solar eclipse. But after having been in and observing the path of the moon’s total shadow, a picture, no matter how arresting, is faint praise of such a moment.
Ohio’s Cuyahoga County, from which I observed the nearly 4 minutes of totality, was special. I was on the deck at our daughter’s home sharing the minutes of moon shadow with her family and particularly our fifth-grade granddaughter who provided amazing color commentary. Having studied the solar eclipse in school she was a voice of authority for proper safety in watching the eclipse. She also announced the promise that she would tell us EXACTLY when it was safe to look directly at the sun without our solar glasses.
At precisely 3:13 p.m. the announced moment came.
As we looked up from our vantage point at the moon-eclipsed sun high in the southwest sky, total darkness embraced us all. But there was more. I could look east and see in the distant sky at the edge of totality “dawn’s early light.” I could look to the west and far out on the edge of totality was a magnificent sky of sunset colors. In the darkness of the path of totality with the sun’s corona overhead I was between what appeared to be the breaking of dawn and the stunning beauty of sunset.
In that moment in the path of totality – and for almost 4 minutes which followed – there was a very special silence. There were no words for those moments in the very center of immensity. Just Awe.
In these subsequent days of reflection, however, some words have come to me again and again. They are those of a verse of Herbert Brokering’s 1964 hymn, “Earth and All Stars.”
Earth and all stars, loud rushing planets
Sing to the Lord a new song!
He has done marvelous things!
I too will praise him with a new song!
I find it wondrous to think of our place in the immensity of things. Our place in the immensity of things evokes great questions.
How are we in such a “Goldilocks Place” where things are just right for life? How is it that a great portion of life as we now know it has come to be able to witness and take in astonishing things?
It evokes a humble silence to think that our moon, secure in its elliptical orbit, can be in such a place as to cast a moon shadow on the earth. It evokes a humble silence to know that our moon is 400 times smaller than our sun and 400 times closer to us than our sun and is therefore perfectly aligned from an earth-bound point of view to “cover” the sun’s light when respective orbits coincide.
What immensity worked that out, even if just for a few minutes, creating a shadow path of totality that is 123 miles wide? Is this all just random consequence of a big bang, an accident, or an inexplicable randomness? It seems as if there has been planning and intention involved. If nothing else, our response should be an understandable, humbled silence.
With a nod to Simon and Garfunkel, I think there is more than just a humble “sound of silence” in the path of totality. The path of totality itself and the ability to take in and ponder that path evokes a new song!
We are caught up in the immensity of the universe. Its mysteries are being revealed and each time astronomical revelation occurs the wonder that we are a part of it, no matter how small, whispers that we are more than the result of random stardust and coincidental chemical configurations. We are a part of an immense plan and unfolding mystery.
The next time the 123-mile path of totality passes this way will be on September 12, 2444. Given the wonder of earth and stars and loud, rushing planets along with the astonishing ability to behold, study, and ponder such things, is it so very out of bounds to think that in some way, somehow, you and I can “save the date” and look forward to being in totality’s path again?
This is part of my new song. The old ones are never enough.