AuthorParker Johnson Admittedly, as I drove out into the foothills to view the solar eclipse today it became evident that I had not done my homework. While en route, I asked, “Eclipses don’t last that long, right? Like what…half an hour, maybe?” Jahnelle laughed and said, “Two and a half hours from start to finish…beginning at 10:20 a.m.” “Oh,” I said. “That’s substantial.” Rewind to last night when I asked what time at night the eclipse started. Obviously, science and space are not my forte, but more importantly, today's eclipse was a reminder that I am not always able to see things in their entirety through my own eyes. 9:45 a.m. We positioned our lawn chairs facing opposite the sun on the bank of the Elbow River in Kananaskis Provincial Park, complete with a 20-pack of assorted Tim Bits, coffee, and water…and we waited. We were early, but prepared. Jahnelle put together two pinhole cameras for us the night before, and we were eager to test them out. Likely operator error, they didn’t end up helping much at all. While we waited for whatever was about to happen, we talked about just how big it was going to be. We both expected that the local news, by stating 80% coverage, meant 80% darkness, and, while absolutely oblivious to any science or space-related information, we most certainly knew not to look directly at the sun, because that would clearly result in a SciFi-inspired zombie experience resulting in 100% blindness and lots of blood. We figured we knew enough. 10:45 a.m. As we waited, we skipped rocks, sang some hymns and campfire songs, and commented on how clear the water in the river was. We used Snapchat to try to look at the sun over our shoulders, but ultimately grumbling each time because the sun still looked like a perfect circle. Couples and young families, complete with their dogs, began showing up and setting up viewing areas near the same bend in the river. Facing away from the sun with faulty pinhole cameras…we really had no clue what was happening behind us, but we were certainly not going to look. Time ticked by, and the colour of the light surrounding us was noticeably different. It wasn’t quite sepia tone, but I’d equate it to maybe buying a cheap pair of blue sunglasses at WalMart. We noticed that much. We continued to skip rocks and began commenting on just how chilly it was getting. Jahnelle put on another jacket, and I started jumping up and down to warm up. “Weird,” we said. “Didn’t think about how the sun being blocked out might impact the air temperature.” Aside from the blue sunglasses filter and the cooler temperatures, I really wasn’t impressed. 11:30 a.m. (remember…the eclipse has now reached 80%) A man’s dog approached us – Abby was her name…a standard poodle – and while we pet her, I safely stored the Tim Bits out of reach. Busily tending to Abby, the owner handed Jahnelle a pair of eclipse glasses and said that he’d noticed we were without. We thanked him and asked, “Can you see anything yet?” (idiotic, I know) “Oh, yes!” he replied, as if to insinuate that he knew something we didn’t. And he did. We put the glasses on and saw a sliver of the sun…blotted out (apparently 80%) by the moon. It was happening, and we weren’t even aware! But seeing it through the filter gave us a new lens to see the event, and it changed everything. The moon…the sun…they were nearly in sync with one another millions of miles away…and I could feel it. The goosebumps I’d been complaining about were my body telling me that the sun was no longer sending all of its powerful rays hurdling towards the Earth. The blue sunglasses filter was my eyes telling me that the majority of the sun’s light was being blocked by a large mass orbiting Earth. HOW IN THE WORLD COULD I HAVE BEEN DISAPPOINTED?! We stared in awe (with the filter obviously) and carefully took photos of what we could see, and then packed the car up and headed back into the city. As I reflect on what happened this morning, I am reminded of the Chris Rice song, “Hallelujah.” My aunt used to sing this song sometimes on Sunday at church, and it always gave me goosebumps. Its words are filled with detailed imagery that I can’t quite get out of my head…just like the connection I finally made when I saw the eclipse through the viewing glasses. I hope I can hold the image of the sun and moon in my mind for years to come as I continue to seek perspective and understanding in our world. Chris Rice - "Hallelujahs" (lyrics)
A purple sky to close the day I wade the surf where dolphins play The taste of salt, the dance of waves And my soul wells up with hallelujahs A lightning flash, my pounding heart A breaching whale, a shooting star Give testimony that You are And my soul wells up with hallelujahs Oh praise Him all His mighty works There is no language where you can't be heard Your song goes out to all the earth Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah! O cratered moon and sparrows wings O thunder's boom and Saturn's rings Unveil our Father as you sing And my soul wells up with hallelujahs Oh praise Him all His mighty works There is no language where you can't be heard Your song goes out to all the earth Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah! The pulse of life within my wrist A fallen snow, a rising mist There is no higher praise than this And my soul wells up O my soul wells up Yes my soul wells up with hallelujahs Oh praise Him all His mighty works There is no language where you can't be heard Your song goes out to all the earth Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah! O hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah!
2 Comments
Joanne Fraser
8/25/2017 08:31:58 am
Love this article. I can picture you two skipping rocks and singing. Thank you for the reminder that we risk missing out if we aren't willing to change perspective. I think if the man noticing your lack of glasses and offering use of his as a tremendous minister, who maybe doesn't realize the impact he had. We can all share our glasses with others. Thank you for sharing yours today through this story.
Reply
Parker Johnson
8/25/2017 10:22:58 am
Thank you, Joanne! That's exactly what I was going for. The gentleman who shared his glasses was looking out for us, and it completely changed our perspective.
Reply
Your comment will be posted after it is approved.
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorsCalgary Spark is a collection of stories told by members and friends of the church alike. Each person's story is helping to shape our community in new ways. Archives
January 2021
Categories
All
|