I was up before 04:00 this morning. I must say I like this quiet time of the day, though I don't see it very often. Today's special occasion was a lunar eclipse, so I got myself wrapped up in sweater, dressing gown, warm socks and baseball cap, put on my fancy LED head-lamp and ventured out into the garden and the lane outside.
It was, and still is, as dark as - well, as night. It is raining fairly heavily, must be overcast (as evidenced by lack of stars) and is (I can confirm) foggy. Not even a glimpse of street lights from Dunbar, 7 miles away by seagull.
It's OK; I am not disappointed. This is another in a long line of events which I never saw - snapshots from a personal history which is notable mostly for its length. I did see the spectacular eclipse of the moon on 9th January 2001, and very fine it was. I had only recently moved out here from the city to the Front of Beyond, and the concept of zero light pollution was still new to me - I've never forgotten that occasion. Apart from that I have recent experience of invisible meteor swarms, and any number of failures to see the Aurora, though we have a north-facing beach within 300 yards of the house which is famous for sightings.
I once waited up for most of a night, on a clifftop near that same beach, to see the new British (Anglo-French?) aircraft carrier sail past, and I think I saw something large and dark passing in front of the lights of Pittenweem, so I have that down as a possible. Otherwise many years of no-shows. I walked across several farms to see the Red Arrows flying overhead on their way from Norfolk to Edinburgh, and they were cancelled. A long list of expected events - some of them very prestigious and historic - which ultimately served only as an excuse for a cup of coffee in the middle of the night. Like the inauguration of Pope Hilarius I, these things all passed me by.
I don't take it personally, I sort of expect it now - it has become almost reassuring, something I can rely upon, so that's all fine. When I think about it, I went out tonight to see the natural wonder which is non-appearance of the moon, and that is what I got. To celebrate, I was going to include a music video of Dominic Miller's Eclipse, of which I am very fond. However, I decided on this one, the title being probably a more accurate statement of what I actually saw tonight; this is Julie London singing No Moon at All, in 1955, accompanied by Barney Kessel, with Ray Leatherwood on bass and that's it. The song was composed by David Mann, with lyrics by Redd Evans, though the chord progression may well have been influenced by Chopin:
I'm sure it was there, it's just AI has decided you are not permitted to view it as you failed too many "are you a robot" tests. As a human battery you are too low on the scale to register that part of the matrix........☺
ReplyDeleteNeil
Neil - I believe you are right. Thank you - I see it all now.
DeleteAs further proof, it tried to prevent my comment "an error has occurred".......
ReplyDelete☺☺☺☺
Neil
Totally . . . commiserate? With me it's always clouds! "Don't forget the whatsits" some helpful chap or chapess on the Radio reminds me, I go out at the allotted time, and the smoke of Mordor is scudding across a leaden sky with all the urgency of a beer-soaked slug! Hey-Ho! At least you were there!
ReplyDeleteH
It's all part of Nature's plan to help keep us humble Hugh. Someone once told me when I was at school that if you are going to look at the sun, then if all else fails you can always look at it through a beer bottle. I never forgot that.
DeleteHeeheehee!
DeleteDo not go to Stonehenge for the Summer Solstice. Somebody will accidentally knock them over when the Gods of Sod get wind of your visit...
ReplyDeleteBy gum - that would be brilliant - no, I think my presence would stop the spectacle. Good though - like big dominoes - maybe that's why they were put there.
DeleteSounds a typical event in the UK. At you've got coffee and Julia.
ReplyDeleteWhen I was about 10, my uncle took me to Liverpool air show, and the French birdman that everyone had come to see broke his wooden wings in the slipstream, and just fell a few thousand feet into a wheatfield. It spoiled the air show, of course, but I didn't see it and didn't know anything about it. A bit of a pattern has developed over the years...
ReplyDeleteLove that track! So much to admire. I have an intense urge to wear a lounge suit and take up smoking.
ReplyDeleteWhen I was a student, an older friend had records of Ms London, and I've always been a fan since then. "Julie Is Her Name" was her first album, there was eventually a second volume, and (if streaming is not compulsory) you can purchase both of them on a single CD for the princely sum of £3.67. You know it makes sense, and your supper parties will be the talk of the county. This is such a bargain that you will be able to get a new lounge suit - watch out for the ciggies, though - they killed Ms London, for one thing.
DeleteThat's a beaut photo of a total eclipse Tony!
ReplyDeleteWe got the bit that you did not get: it has been gorgeously big and near-full to full down here.
Clearly though, you made good use of your time after looking at the non-moon. Thank you.
James
Thanks James - there you are, you see; it was a spectacle worth getting up for, unfortunately I was in the wrong place by thousands of miles. Yesterday I had a visit from my joiner, who was delivering a new front door he is to install next week; he told me that he had seen the eclipse in its full glory from Mallorca the previous day. I was going to make him a cup of coffee, but decided against it - he can make his own blooming coffee.
DeleteMy commiserations. If it is any consolation we went all the way to Spain to see the solar eclipse and at the moment of totality, clouds rolled over the sun! Never work with animals, children or nature....
ReplyDeleteThat's terrible - I bet that wasn't even covered by your travel insurance. I've tried to avoid forming this conclusion, but it is becoming obvious that Nature hates us. Maybe not without reason, but in our sad little way we are bringers of order - we make electricity flow along cables, and we build houses in what used to be Dutch swamps. Nature can't be doing with this - Nature likes entropy, and as much as possible, so it tries to spite us whenever possible.
DeleteLove the song Tony, I’ve had it on my playlist for years but didn’t think anyone else I knew would’ve heard of it. Wife and I sat in a field a few weeks ago to watch the eclipse. Hardly noticed it to be honest but I did get bit in the nads by something lurking in the grass.
ReplyDeleteIt's all a disaster, I tell you. Something, somewhere is taking the Mickey. My wife follows a blog which is all about natural phenomena (and that) - a few days ago, the description of the (then) forthcoming lunar eclipse gave exact times to the minute of when things would happen. One of the stages involved the explanation, "at this stage, the moon will become a little dimmer, but you will probably not be able to see any difference"; that was certainly true in my case, but I am beginning to smell a rat.
DeleteHope you had the nad ointment handy.