Eclipse

My older brother, Buckley, moved back to the US to attend college when I was just three years old.

When I turned sixteen, my father retired, and our family returned to Texas. Over the next two years, I had the opportunity to really get to know Buckley. We embarked on long walks in the woods, floated through summer on a raft, stayed up late to observe satellites and shooting stars, and engaged in discussions about philosophy while sharing stories.

One day he remarked that the best way to experience an eclipse is to take a walk in the woods. “Most people are so busy looking up during an eclipse that they miss what is happening on the ground. Why bother making a pin hole projector to cast a shadow of an eclipse when almost any tree will do the same a thousand-fold.”

In 1991, I traveled to Puerto Vallarta with a friend to witness a total eclipse. We discovered a deserted beach north of town, and as the eclipse approached totality, we walked down to the beach. I raised my welder’s glass to view the eclipse, and then I recalled my brother’s advice. Instead of gazing upward, I looked around, relishing the peculiar play of light on the mountains. Rather than wandering in the woods, I chose to swim in the ocean. I stepped into the sole hotel on the beach to change. It was an aged hotel that catered to Mexican tourists. As I passed by a spacious room, filled with locals of all ages, I noticed they were watching the eclipse on a small TV high on a shelf on the wall.

I floated in the ocean as the sun darkened. First one, and then dozens of pelicans started landing on the water all around me, gently bobbing on the calm waves and tucking their heads under their wings to sleep. I couldn’t imagine a more perfect place to experience an eclipse, or better company to share it with.

A few years later, I discovered why the locals were watching the eclipse on TV. The Mexican Government had been warned that without intervention, a significant portion of the population, especially in remote areas, might gaze directly at the sun during the eclipse and risk blindness. Instead of attempting to educate the population, they chose the simpler path of using fear. They endorsed and propagated old myths and superstitions about eclipses, including claims that they could lead to miscarriages, and advised everyone to stay indoors during the eclipse. Judging from what I observed, it was a very effective campaign.

I wish that our politicians would invest the time to appeal to our highest values, provide us with the facts, and trust us to make the best decisions for ourselves and our loved ones. But more often than not, they take the easier strategy, using fear to manipulate us for the perceived greater good.

Today was an Annular Eclipse in South Texas. Here in Austin, it was not quite full, but still quite spectacular. In memory of my older brother, Buckley, I spent the eclipse walking through my neighborhood, and enjoying the play of shadows on the ground. I hope you enjoy these photos that I took on my walk.