This is already old news, but I figure I need to at least talk about it: the eclipse happened. And, it was a big, unique thing that won’t occur again for years and years. A legendary event that children will look back on fondly.
And, I didn’t watch it.
I didn’t have the special glasses. No effort went toward pre-planning for it, and thus I had nothing for viewing.
I spent a good few hours of my day cooped up in a single room, hiding. Which, I’ll admit, is not that different from how I go about my writing-packed days normally. But, from that hiding came an odd way of thinking about this special occurrence, because, at least with how I treated it, the eclipse was a damn-near apocalyptic event. Something to fear. And, because of this odd inspiration, I could—and will probably—write a story about the destructive seduction of an eclipse.
Because, the eclipse, without the glasses, is a hornet nest.
It is so thoroughly against human nature to have something that is there, that is special, that is entertaining, and then convince oneself NOT, under any circumstances, to check it out.
I mean, it’s the goddamn sky changing. A piece of proof, not that we need any more proof, that we are indeed on a huge planet in the middle of space. It’s a reminder of our solar system, which, at least for me, is something I can forget about in my day-to-day escapades.
This may be the oddest sentence I have said all month (when you live like I do, you learn to limit these qualifiers to small time frames) but the eclipse was like a horror movie villain making a sound a person must investigate alone for some reason.
I’d go so far as to say it’s the closest thing we have, in the natural world, to a Lovecraftian Elder God.
Which, yeah, I guess is cool.
But, Lord were those hours tinged with worry.
No one makes a point of looking at the sun in daily life—unless they really want to go blind with a burning passion—but when you can’t even glance at the star, you realize, or I did at least, how much one looks at the sun. How often we quickly peer in its general direction.
It’s kind of freaky, really.
But, now, the event’s over and was a unique experience for all. Even those who avoided it like me. And, despite everything, some people, somewhere, of course, got their eyes roasted.
That’s human nature.
But, I repeat, not me. And I hope not you.
In fact, I hope you enjoyed the eclipse, safely, of course. Because it’s a rare but important thing for the world to show that it still can be, even with all our technology and advancement, as varied, dangerous, and wondrous as the magic and creatures from our most beloved fictional stories.