The Eclipse

America had its eclipse event yesterday. The Moon blocked the sun with its shadow swath across our land. People were excited to see the phenomenon both with protective glasses and with ignorant stares into the sun.

For me, I listened and watched the events that lead up to the moon’s passage as well as the passage itself. I am only reporting personally here.

Within twenty-four hours of the celestial experience, I was driving on a rural road in the Catskills mountains of New York State when an unusual event happened. A black bear was lumbering up in the middle of the road as my car approached. I have driven these roads for over fifty years, and I have seen many black bears, but never one sauntering in the middle of the road in broad daylight.

Next, the morning of yesterday's solar passage, I am sitting next to a pastoral waterfall watching a tricking gentle stream fall into tiny pools and then minutely cascade over rock and rill as the mesmerizing sound captured my spirit. Silently, a doe and fawn walked into to my reverie and stopped, stared and stayed within ten feet before they gently turned and stepped away.

Later just before the start of the eclipse. A wild turkey family. Two adults and two chicks tried to fly into my office window. After a few attempts,  they gathered themselves and strutted away.

I don't know about you, and I’m not saying anything, but something was different. I only have to wait seven-years for corroboration.