I have been fascinated by the sun, the moon, the planets and the stars since I was a young girl. I got my first taste of enthusiasm from my middle school science teacher, Mrs. Colby, who elevated my curiosity for learning about such things with her joyful presentations that stirred by mind. In high school my physical science teacher, Father Bernard, further commanded my interest when he set up a telescope on the football field one evening and I saw the craters on the moon and the rings of Saturn. Those moments along with the exploration of space emanating from NASA in my own hometown made me acutely aware and excited about every new development in knowledge about how our universe works. 

It was natural for me to want to see the major eclipse in the summer of 2017 so I made plans for me and my husband to attend that event with my brother and sister-in-law who had spent their careers working at NASA. Sadly I missed that moment when my husband had a stroke only weeks before we were scheduled to meet up in Wyoming. He recovered from all symptoms quickly but we decided to stay home and join others at the Houston Museum of National Science for a less spectacular partial eclipse in our area. Nonetheless I was enchanted by what I witnessed on that day and determined not to miss any other opportunities to view the wondrous unfolding of how the heavens work. 

About a year ago I came across a map showing the pathway of the April 8, 2024 total eclipse and instantly saw that the route went right over my daughter’s home. I began making plans immediately to be in place when the event unfolded. I purchased proper glasses for viewing and set them aside. As the day neared I read article after article and marveled that we humans had the capability of predicting the timing of the event down to the second. The preview alone was enough to excite me and intensify my desire to see the glory of the heavens working in an almost magical way.

Last week we left on a Thursday for my daughter’s home hoping to avoid most of the expected crowds because we were bringing my ninety-five year old father-in-law along for the journey. Much like the workings of the sun, moon and earth our plans worked like clockwork. The day of our arrival was gloriously beautiful and all we had to do is wait for the appointed time.

We visited with a dear friend on Friday and my husband and father-in-law explored the Texas hill country on Saturday. By Sunday we our excitement had built to a fever pitch even though the weather predictions were not in our favor. Most of Texas was going to be under a cloud cover that might hinder our viewing. I simply prayed and wished for a break that would show us the heavens. 

The morning of Monday, April 8, began with patches of blue in the sky that convinced me that we would be okay. As the day progressed, however, the entire area was overcast. Still I was hopeful that the heavens would surrender and give us a view. We along with all of the people in the area donned our protective glasses and sat in lawn chairs with our heads looking upward in hopes of seeing something, anything that might allow us to witness this once in a lifetime event. Now and again the clouds did part and we watched the march of the moon covering more and more of the sun. It was a beautiful sight that brought me to tears and filled my heart with a kind of reverence for the incredible workings of our solar systems. 

As the afternoon became dark like night so did the clouds. We attempted to wish them away for even a short glance of the totality that we knew was happening but our view never became unobstructed like it would do for those farther north of us. We had to be content with what we had already seen and then watch the rest of the eclipse pathway from a NASA live stream inside the house. I saw the glorious totality over and over again as the shadow moved to the north where my granddaughter and grandson were eagerly awaiting in Indiana and Maine. Meanwhile I received a photo from another grandson who had traveled to Mexico with friends he has known since kindergarten. The picture gloriously showed the totality and I was so overjoyed for him that I burst into happy tears. 

We spent most of the rest of the afternoon breathlessly watching the totality unfold in American city after city. We smiled with the cheers from the crowds and felt a kind of unity with our fellow citizens that has been somehow lacking in recent times. The glory of our sun and our moon and our own dependence on them seemed so much more important than our sometimes petty differences. The intelligence of people who were able to instantly film the event both on the earth and from outer space was as moving as the workings of the universe itself. I thought of Mrs. Colby and Father Bernard and how happy it would have made them to witness how far we have come in our knowledge and how predictable the physics and mathematics of it all actually is. I felt a kind of awe and reverence and sense of responsibility for treasuring the earth and its people. 

I’m still on an emotional high from watching the eclipse unfold even if I was not able to view the climax with my own eyes. Somehow I felt a sense of perspective in the hours that I watched us all connected by the beauty of the design of the universe. I realized more than ever how interconnected we are in spite of our many differences of language and culture and political leanings. In the end we are all part of a vast system that operates around us even when we are hardly noticing it. Our planet is a treasure and it is up to all of us to care for it for all of the people who share the earth and the inner workings that allow us to breath and thrive. There is a glory to it all and I saw that on Monday, April 8, 2024 when for a few hours we Americans stopped our bickering and celebrated the majesty of the heavens of our good fortune.