Witt’s End

It's Not About Stories People Tell, It's About …

For an uncountable number of weeks and days we (meaning me, mostly) have focused our eyes on the cosmos. The big show, the Total Eclipse, has come and gone. We have plenty of pictures to show and, unless you an astrophysicist, not much to think about. What, in the end did we get out of the eclipse other than some great memories–and you can’t eat those? Just after the eclipse I took a walk in the neighborhood to decompress from the excitement. I found myself standing next to a blossoming tree that was humming with excitement. As I got closer I realized the tree was covered with honey bees, all working like crazy on something that will last long after the memories have faded.

The memories of the Great American Eclipse will be gone far too soon, adding another item to the list of things that once were. The efforts of the honey bees, however, will endure.

I’ll skip over all the stories of gnashing teeth, extra high blood-pressure medicine and frayed nerves and get right to the end of the story. Here, in Northeast Ohio, we had a damned good eclipse experience on April 8, 2024. I’ve only thought about this for the past seven years, since we saw the 2017 total eclipse in Casper, Wyoming. One of the early questions most eclipse watchers have when it’s over is, “When’s the next one?” And we knew it would be in Cleveland, in April, certainly our cruelest month. The first week in April, temperatures could be 81 degrees, or 18 degrees. We could have flowers blooming or eight inches of snow. That’s what makes living here so exciting and worthwhile.

This year was super. The rain in the morning caused a lot of angst, however, by noon things were looking good. Temps escalated to more than 70 degrees with high-level wispy clouds. Friends from New Mexico, with whom we had shared the Wyoming eclipse experience, had arrived a few days earlier. Neighbors started arriving about 1 p.m. ’cause they knew the old guy with all the telescopes would be locked and loaded for the 3 p.m. show.

Even though those high clouds stuck around, we got the whole show from first bite to last. Baily’s Beads, when the sun peeks through the irregular surface of the moon, were spectacular.

The Diamond Ring, when the sun gets serious about moving out of the moon’s shadow, could not have been better.

And, of course totality was a totally awesome experience.

Can’t wait for the next one coming to North America in 2045.

Spent some time in the dark in the Cuyahoga Valley National Park last night. Must be getting warmer ‘cause I saw more teenagers in cars at the Station Road parking lot. For me (too) it was all about experimentation. And, at least in my case, I’ll be going back for more, next opportunity. Working with a new lens and new post processing software so I (too) have a lot to learn. 

Enjoy the dark sky on your first night, Mr. Moon. 

Here in the Cuyahoga Valley National Park I have a tree that I consider a favorite. The park has thousands of trees, of course, however, this one, for me is a standout. Not because it’s a rare species (in fact I don’t know what species it is) or particularly tall or anything else that makes trees special. I guess it’s because of its location. I do a fair amount of night photography in the park and this tree happens to be located in just the right spot for me to use as a terrestrial element to complement the cosmos compositions. I often head into the park thinking I’ll go here or there, then wind up imaging the tree.

A couple nights ago I was imaging the sky and tree, thinking about packing it up and heading home. It was cold (for me), 23 degrees. I noticed a couple cars at the far end of the parking lot and figured it was some teenagers discovering what all teens think of as their original discovery–sex and music. Turns out it was some night hikers. As they loaded gear into their cars I realized they might just add a new element to my nightscape. Thanks folks.

Out playing with my astro gear today in preparation for the Annular Solar Eclipse, visible in the western part of the country, in October. (Yeah, I know, that’s 4 months from now, but ya can’t be too ready when it comes to eclipses.) Between the clouds and trees, I imaged the sun from our back deck here in northeast Ohio. That huge sunspot in the lower left part of the picture is AR3363, as it’s affectionally known to scientists. It’s huge, 4 times larger than planet Earth. I missed one last week that was 11 times the size of Earth! If you saved your eclipse glasses from the August 2017 solar eclipse, you might try viewing this sunspot without a telescope. Do not, under any conditions, attempt to view the sun without using proper solar filters. It can, and will, blind you. The magnetic storms these puppies are kicking out are getting serious. Sunspots are caused by especially strong and intertwined magnetic fields. (And for the nerds among us, I made this image with my Explore Scientific ED80CF scope, Baader solar filter, and Nikon D7500. Single exposure.)

Happy sun day.