How wrong I was. It was a beautiful day outside, and I figured I'd best come up with a plan quickly. I managed to get a half decent sort of view with a colander and a fat envelope containing a council tax bill (unopened) and was thinking a cycle to Sconce Park to "borrow" a pair of eclipse glasses off a young child might be my best bet - "Here sonny, giz a look..." "Ooooff" - when my mum phoned and announced my stepfather had a device providing spectacular views.
I cycled round, to find him looking at the eclipse through an bowl shaped industrial light fitting made of half inch thick frosted glass that rendered the sun a rather distorted dull pink crescent. Still it enabled me to get really good views of eclipse maximum, and mum barely had to get out of bed to see it through her bedroom window.
It was noticeable that around maximum, the light took on a very eerie look, but the birds did not stop singing or fly up into their trees to roost; indeed one woodpigeon was rather defiantly sat on a neighbouring chimney pot with its back turned to the event.
Things are warming up rather nicely today, I have indeed now been to the park and the blossom is buzzy with bees. I should think if it stays bright, butterflies and bumbles will be around later.
Keep your eyes peeled!
Si
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| The fishbowl view. The sun is a 3 o'clock at the edge. |
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| Maximum |
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| If you were in a plane... |
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| "What do you think of people who look at eclipses with fishbowls Brian?" "Nobbers, Dara." |
Interesting to read your observations. Thanks for the comment.
ReplyDeleteNo problem, I know it means a lot to writers. As for the eclipse, such things cannot be missed if you have a chance to see them.
ReplyDelete