Eclipse-o-mania

America went stark raving crazy over today's solar eclipse.  Oh the ridiculous conspiracy theories that abounded over what was, after all, a common and predictable event! We could expect earthquakes! False flag attacks! Biological warfare! Acts of terrorism! EMPs! Civil unrest! Mass zombie behavior! Communications blackouts! Internet down! Martial law! Lock downs! Um, have I missed anything?

Of course, the moment the eclipse was over and exactly NONE of these predictions came to pass ... crickets.

Here in Idaho, we were well outside the path of totality. Using this eclipse website, we would be seeing a bit under one-third coverage.

Last October, during the last eclipse, we really couldn't see it since we didn't have any glasses. However the sun filtered through the willow leaves and cast crescent shadows on our outdoor chest freezer, allowing us to "see" the eclipse (pretty cool, actually!).

This time, however, we have no willow leaves. They've barely emerged from their buds.

Although we had beautiful clear conditions, I despaired of seeing anything since we didn't have glasses. Then, unexpectedly, Older Daughter said she had purchased two pairs of glasses online three weeks ago. Holy cow, really??? I was thrilled! Smart kid!!!

Thus we were able to watch the proceedings. I photographed the sun through the glasses, and here's what I got:

How was your eclipse?

Did you see the eclipse?

Saturday's solar eclipse covered a good chunk of the Western U.S.

We got to about 80% coverage. The above chart was annoying because apparently it was using the Mountain Time Zone of central and southern Idaho rather than Pacific Time Zone of the northern part of the state. It indicated the eclipsed started at 9:09 am and peaked at 10:25 am. However we found out it started an hour earlier: Beginning at 8:09 am (Pacific) and peaking at 9:25 am.

Frustratingly, we didn't have (or couldn't find) the solar glasses we used during the last eclipse we experienced. Sometime inside six years and two moves, they disappeared. (Doubtless we'll find them next week or something similarly useless.)

A neighbor was watching the beginning of the eclipse as we returned from walking Darcy (around 8:15 am, which is how I figured out the time discrepancy on the above chart). We peeked through her glasses and I tried to get a photo using the solar glasses over my camera lens, but no luck.

Then I tried putting sunglasses over my camera lens. That didn't work either.

 As the eclipse progressed, I tried the old "pinprick through paper" trick, with marginal success.

So I turned to go inside the house, figuring there was no way to see the eclipse without resources. I turned around and saw ... this.

The leaves of our willow tree...

...were eclipsing on the white side of our chest freezer, which is on the porch. How handy is that? We were able to "see" the eclipse after all.

The eclipse caused the light the get kinda sickly faded, but nothing overly dramatic. I'm sure it was different for those in the path of totality.

Did you see the eclipse?

So how was YOUR eclipse?

Along with the rest of the country, we looked forward to viewing yesterday's solar eclipse. Here in the north Idaho panhandle, we "only" had 92 percent coverage to anticipate.

Which is actually fine, considering the traffic jams and crazy parties that were taking place along the path of totality.

I had ordered a 10-pack of solar eclipse glasses which, unsurprisingly, did not arrive until yesterday morning, minutes before the eclipse. I called our local post office, and the postmistress said they had arrived, so Younger Daughter and I made a dash into town just as the eclipse started. We peeled off one pair of glasses so the postal workers could watch the phenomenon, then headed home, stopping at three locations to distribute glasses to neighbors -- a pair here and a couple of pairs there.

Then we got home and commenced watching the spectacle ourselves.

It's a good thing the eclipse glasses arrived when they did, because my optimistic hope that my little pocket camera could handle photographing a solar eclipse was entirely incorrect.

However by covering the camera lens with the solar glasses, I could photographic it quite well.

We were watching the chickens to see what they would do since we'd heard stories that chickens would go to roost during an eclipse, mistakenly thinking it was nighttime. As it turns out, they chickens did nothing different, because it didn't get dark.

At the peak of cover, the air did turn sickly dim, however. I tried to photograph it, but how do you photograph sickly dim air? As Younger Daughter put it, it gave us a feeling of unease, of something not quite right. Shadows were still as sharp, but dimmer. Dim shadows are just plain weird.

We also noticed birds had gone utterly silent. So did the crickets. The unnatural silence contributed to that vague uneasiness we felt.

Temperatures also dropped by about ten degrees. At peak coverage, the temp was 61F.

Afterward, the temp popped up to 71F.

(We couldn't use our wall thermometer during the eclipse since it gets the morning sun and isn't accurate during this time.)

Coverage peaked, then gradually waned.

Our experience wasn't nearly as dramatic as those in the path of totality, but it was still pretty nifty.

So how was your eclipse?