April Column Winner

A moment of darkness sheds light

By Sara Acosta, Woodward News

What is it about the heavens that makes man look up into the sky in wonder?
 
Last year after the partial eclipse, I began to search out avenues to see the total eclipse in April.

Originally I wanted to make a camping trip of it, but after researching campgrounds in South-eastern Oklahoma, and with my budget and the four day booking requirements – those realities made that option a fantasy for me.

Fast forward a few months, and I decided to at least ask off from work for the day of the eclipse, because you never know when a wild hair might take you.

Eventually my plans settled on driving to a friend’s house in Oklahoma City, waking up at 5 AM and driving on I40 until we hit the center of the path of the eclipse.

We finally arrive to the day of the eclipse – and here we are - loading our sandwiches and drinks in a cooler, ushering my friend’s bleary eyed teenage son out the door and into the Jeep.

The drive starts out with normal early morning road trip quietness, as we wake up and become energized by delicious gas station roller-foods.

The road is basically clear of everything but the growl of morning commute traffic and every once in a while, during our conversations, we get a little chuckle out of the next song title on the “Total Eclipse Playlist” on Spotify. Four hours of highway hypnosis later and there we are, entering Conway, Arkansas. 

The day is full of little surprises when we find out another pair of friends made the same trip themselves. A few text messages and calls later, we decide to meet at the local Cracker Barrel for some pre-eclipse brunch. I know, I know, we brought sandwiches. But eating with friends in the barely populated Monday morning eatery sounded a lot more appetizing.

We split ways after we split the check and they told us about a really nice baseball park to situ-ate ourselves in for the viewing. So with only an hour to go we begin to elbow our way through... nobody.

Now I had expected there to be at least a hundred if not more people at each open field, based on what I had been hearing.

But when we arrived, there were only maybe five families in this big sports complex. Chocking it up to good luck that might not last, we set up our picnic blanket in the only slice of shade we find and I prepare my camera. I look around and two other eclipsers brought out the BIG guns and by guns I mean sophisticated telescopes, cameras and even drones. I feel so small all of a sudden.

But as time creeps forward the giddiness grows.

I’ve seen partial eclipses before. Yet, to see the full eclipse of the sun makes me wonder just how many humans in all of earth’s history have been able to see one of these? And then it begins – that first slice of dark over the sun. We check with regularity, putting our glasses on before turning our faces skyward. Most of the time we are silent, aside from a gentle breeze or odd bits of conversation rumbling in the background. 

Anticipation stuffs the air, as it cools and the sun dims. It’s as if it is a theatre production and it’s announcing to the audience, “Ladies and gentlemen, please take your seats.”

This was it. Two minutes until totality. Time be-comes hazy here. I put on my glasses for the final time and I watch, heart racing as I can finally see the moon moving slowly to cover the last sliver of the sun.

“Almost, almost- WOOO!!” I hear myself whoop, as that final bit of light disappears behind my glasses and I rip them off my face.

It’s incredible – that dark blue of twilight sur-rounds the corona of the sun. It pulses and dances around the moon. Something that you can normally only see with a special infrared tele-scope, now viewable to the naked human eye. Filled with awe, I quickly snatch up my camera to take as many pictures as I am able.

Four minutes. I have four minutes to both capture and soak up this moment – I think to myself.

My heart is beating like a hummingbird’s wings and my breathing is hopeful. I imagined, what it would have been like to have lived in a world where this event wasn’t forecast?

It is easy to see how discord and rumors would have flown like Elphaba’s monkeys, and suddenly I feel I might be able to forgive someone for thinking that a monster had overtaken the sky. However, I’m here now and a calm falls over me as I realize that I am witnessing something so big, so grandiose, that our world in comparison, is but a grain of sand in the grand scheme of it all. What a wonderful thought to spur on the best in humanity. We’re all on this little grain of sand against this wide universe together, so why not love one another?

That is the reason man looks to the sky. That is why we search the heavens. To find something bigger than ourselves. When we do, we may find at least one more reason to treat each other with kindness, knowing that we are all alone together.