Eclipsed

Well, the sun was certainly eclipsed today here in Grenoble.

Even if I had managed to drag myself away from my fascinating lesson on the Present Perfect Continuous and nipped outside, I would have seen nothing but mist (oh, ok, smog) obscuring the light.

Far more interesting were the reactions at the Primary school where I also work. The headmistress was inundated with calls from worried parents who wanted reassurance that their children would be kept inside the classrooms with the blinds down during the fateful event. One mother phoned to say her child was so traumatized, she wouldn’t be coming to school at all.

What on earth would they have made of the total eclipse of 1999?

I’ll never forget that warm August day when we all went up to Beachy Head on the South Downs, clutching our silly glasses and a picnic hamper. Half the population of Eastbourne had had the same idea, it seemed.

We found a spot to sit on the grass, donned our glasses and gazed at the sky, waiting.

I remember how the air suddenly chilled as the sun turned black and twilight fell; the eerie silence as the birds stopped singing. The awe...

And that, I think you'll agree, was an eclipse to put today's feeble effort firmly in the shade...

  

Once in a blue moon

Last night, I thought I would see this:

I would have loved to have seen this:

But all I saw was this:






and that’s good enough for me because...

...every August, during La Nuit des Etoiles, I stand outside and stare at the sky, propping my eyelids open and willing myself not to fall asleep.

I stand there until the early hours of the morning.

Once, I stayed up all night.

And I have never ever seen a single shooting star. Not one. Aeroplanes and satellites by the dozen but shooting stars? They just sit there stubbornly twinkling and refuse to fall.

At least the moon had the decency to blush…