Red moon morning
Totality (according to my watch), was just a minute or two after six in the morning. I’d been watching for a while up till then, looking skyward as I paddled the Foss in the wee hours of the cold pre-dawn, as the moon grew steadily darker. The light in the moon was being shut off.
According to them who know these things, this will be the last total eclipse of the moon we’re going to see around these parts for the next three years. The fact that the sky was clear, that it was possible to see the moon at all, was pretty amazing. All week it’s been cloudy and blah, and any glimpse of the moon has been brief, seen in snippets through the filter of Washington’s hemorrhoid sky.
On Saturday morning, however, the heavens were on full display, stars blinking in the frigid night and the moon slowly going dark. It seemed closer during the half-hour or so that it was extinguished, still visible hanging there, but texturally more familiar somehow, more accessible. Darker, sort of salmon-colored. Like a big peach.
About Ken Campbell
New Release
A story of sea kayaking and science on the rugged coast of Alaska. Coming – Spring 2014.
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