In
last 500 years, there have been only eight total solar eclipses
visible from the UK. Next one will be in 2026,
so
I wasn't going to miss my 'Once
in a lifetime'
chance last Friday, even though at 9.30 in the morning it would
disrupt my regular Friday blindfolded session and, as it turned out,
also Lucy's fortnightly piano lesson.
So,
just a little disappointed, I arranged to delay Lucy's visit until
later in the morning and didn't blindfold myself at my usual Friday
morning time of eight o/clock, once I know husband is safely on his
train into his London office. I sat then waiting for the eclipse to
start, colander an a piece of paper to hand (colander,
for you people overseas perhaps!? is a stell
saucepan-sized kitchen
strainer – a bowl with lots of round
holes)
with which
you can project images
of
the eclipsing
sun
through the holes
onto a piece of paper.
But
at 9.00 it was grey and cloudy, so thick that during the time of the
eclipse it didn't even darken and, as for the birds which are
supposed to stop singing and return to ttheir nests, there were none
singing in the first place. Very diasppointing to those of us in the
South-East of England, except curiously enough, the cloud did break
up over Ashdown Forest – highish moorland not
far away and the very place where I didn't see the visiting eagle
when my bird-watching friend took me up there last summer. See
previous blog.
Well
then, I did manage to blindfold myself before Lucy arrived
for her own blindfolded visit and we did spend time commisserating
on the lack of seeing anything of the eclipse.
But
then of course, blindfolded as we were, we were both happily
eclipsed
in
the end!
Thanks
for your recent
comments,
Accro
delajupe and
'eyes.patched' I'll
get back to those after Easter now,
Happy
Easter,
Jane.