Minutes before the 3:20 p.m. moment of greatest coverage, the staff of Fairfax County Circuit Court Records Office gathered outside the courthouse for a chance to view the eclipse with office head, Chris Falcon (right).
If you expected to see a Chinese celestial dragon devour it, a boy named Tcikabis catch it in a snare, a black squirrel gnawing on it, a demon named Rahu swallow it, a sign of displeasure, or a human like fight going on in the sky, you may have been disappointed in Monday’s celestial spectacle.
But if not holding to the vision of one of the many legends, such as those from ancient China, Togo, Benin, the Hindus or Incas, or the Native tribes of Ojibwe, Cree or Choctaw, then you were most likely astounded to witness the rather rare phenomenon of the sun nearly disappearing from the sky on Monday.
The partial solar eclipse viewing from our area, with great hype, did not disappoint with its show amidst the only wispily clouded sky. Watchers, some prepared with eclipse glasses, pinhole projectors, or blankets, gathered and shared with friends, or came out on their own, to share in the rare event, in the safe cautious way the ancients may not have known.
Some traveled to regions of the U.S. with more significant totality. But for those who stayed in this area, there was no particular or heightened location to reach. Any open area worked with a direct view, or with a sidewalk or armed with paper if using a pinhole projection. The eclipse created a shared event we all could see and enjoy together.
A pinhole projection view of the eclipse on the sidewalk was safe, but perhaps not as dramatic as viewing with solar glasses