Wednesday, September 6, 2017

eclipse and ash

A few weeks ago, what seemed like the entire United States was in a frenzy over an eclipse of totality that would be going across much of the nation. Many drove far and camped long and ran out of gas, etc. etc. to be able to experience it. Those who saw it said it was a life-changing experience -- mostly that it was gorgeous and awe-inspiring, unlike anything they had ever seen. I was surprised that so many of them reported not being able to control themselves during totality - screaming, running about, acting strangely, hugging random strangers...

Where I was, it was in excess of 80% totality. The light seemed "dirty," and I found I was somewhat unsettled in my spirit. It wasn't that I felt depressed, but there seemed to be a suppression of sorts of both my body and the earth's -- difficult to describe. I can only imagine how much more difficult to describe it would have been if I had actually seen totality. As it was, the temperature went down a few degrees, and there were crescent-shaped shadows on the pavement from the leaves.

The other thing people commented on after the eclipse was that everyone shared with everyone else. Many made a big deal about social walls coming down and equality for everyone, even if it was just for the space of a few minutes. People who had protective glasses were sharing freely with those who did not plan ahead. (I was the recipient of some of this generosity, as I definitely did not plan ahead.)

Fast forward: yesterday, I went out right after breakfast and the sun was a big ball of gleaming orange-red hanging low in the sky. Ash was "snowing" on my car. The air in the house seems close and hot. We dare not open the windows for prudence of black lung - many of us in the house have sensitive lungs, and we do not want to encourage any problems.

We're fairly close to some fires. It is sad how much is burning. It feels like the spirit of the earth is sick. I've never really felt like the earth had a spirit - more like my spirit interacted with the beautiful things in the earth. I guess I failed to recognize it's a two-way street. It's like the earth is sick and its internal defenses are down; no immune system is left. It's like it's throwing up - too much water in some parts of the world, and not enough in others. I miss the order of the days. I hardly know what season it is because the light is orange all day and the grass is the driest, brownest, most ugly thing I have ever seen. I didn't even stir one step outside today because I simply did not want to be inundated with the ick factor.

It has been too hot or too busy to go for a walk last week, and this week I was so looking forward to some rambles. It's really disappointing to have to stay inside when all I want to do is go outside and stretch my legs and my mind.

Here's to fewer fires, storms lessened, and to bright, normal sunshine. No more dirty light!

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