The weather all the way from the Portuguese border had a moisture haze because of the heat. We hoped it would just add color to the eclipse. It would also diffuse the sunlight so the surroundings wouldn't get as dark as they would have otherwise during totality.
We had no idea what to expect. At lunch we had seen TV news footage of throngs of people choking highways, flocking to see the eclipse. Gulp. Were we going to have to deal with that? We hadn't seen anything like that on the way to our hotel, so we were cautiously optimistic. The first thing we did after checking in was to take a quick drive around the area to investigate. About five minutes from our room we found a very nice secluded place just above a solar farm with a completely unobstructed view of the western horizon and nobody anywhere to be seen. Well, that was easy! Pat pinned the location on the map and we set off to see if there was anything better.
We found our way onto a nearby wind farm plateau with plenty of unobstructed western horizon. It had a little altitude, so we thought it might be even better. The plateau was huge, and crisscrossed by dirt roads to access the wind turbines, and again no one was around, it was totally deserted. We were struck by the two uses of the land: for a wind farm and also for grain growing. All the fields were dried and mown, very conveniently for us eclipse-parkers. So where were these throngs? They must have been going to the beaches.
We still had a couple hours to kill before showtime. Pat had made us a picnic dinner, but we had not yet purchased our celebratory Spanish wine. She googled a couple likely places in nearby towns, so we drove down off the plateau to some lovely little towns and came back with a nice bottle of Rioja Tempranillo.
Back at the plateau, we found it had been discovered. There were about four cars a hundred meters (yards) from the field where we parked. Oh my, there goes the neighborhood. We parked so our windshield faced the setting sun, left the car idling, and sat in air-conditioned comfort and solitude while we enjoyed our dinner.
About ten minutes to eight we thought the eclipse should be coming up before too long so we popped on our eclipse glasses to make sure they worked, and saw that it had already started! About a quarter of the sun was already covered by the moon. We gazed excitedly at it for a minute, then set up our lounge chairs and moved outside.
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Geriatric eclipse watching in the wind farm
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Pretty excited
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Reserving judgment
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As we sat watching the moon slowly slide over the sun, Gerrit was reminded of the long slow nights he'd spent babysitting his telescope back in Seattle. You slow down. You begin to appreciate the serene majesty of astronomical events and how puny you really are. Gerrit had adopted a screen name for his astronomy forum posts at the time: TinySpeck. He was amazed that no one had taken it already.
Slowly the moment of totality approached. The sun slipped toward darkness, and it began to look like twilight all around. Even the windmills slowed and stopped without solar heat to drive the winds. At the moment of totality, when the sun completely disappeared, we pulled off the protective glasses and stared at one of the most spectacular displays in nature.
The sun had become a black disk, with a huge flare surrounding it which you normally can't see. It doubled in apparent size because of this. For a short ninety seconds, the stars came out and the sun was a black lion with a great flaming mane. A tiny, intense red dot appeared on the left margin of the moon, probably a little irregularity in the moon's surface which allowed a wink of sunlight through.
And then it was over. The sun began to come out from behind the moon. We spent a fraction of our short eclipse time trying to capture the event, but we're afraid the pictures don't nearly do it justice. But we were there, we had a perfect view of the event, and now we're among the lucky ones who have experienced a total solar eclipse. The windmills began to turn again, light came back up to sunset brightness, and when the sun had set far enough toward the horizon we could look at it without glasses and see the last bit of the moon's eclipse on it. We packed up, happy and awestruck, and made our way back to our room.
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Totality and a turbine
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See Venus in the upper left?
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The black sun at totality
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Still a nibble afterward, at sunset
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A solar eclipse is a truly remarkable natural phenomenon. Our sun and moon are exactly the right size and distance from Earth for the moon to to exactly cover the sun during an eclipse. That's all sheer coincidence. As the eclipse happens, the shadow of the moon crosses the Earth. The darkest part of the shadow results in a total eclipse and is only about 200 km (124 mi) wide, so it traces a pretty narrow stripe across the Earth. This happens every year and a half or so somewhere on Earth, but a given location only sees a total eclipse about every 400 years.
And the human wonder of it is that modern astronomers have calculated the size, position, and movement of the Earth, Moon, and Sun with such exquisite precision that they can predict years in advance exactly when and where this stripe will happen, to the second and to the kilometer. Imagine the terror of primitive people when a total eclipse occurred. They had no warning and no explanation when the sun died and then came back. Now we understand what is happening and can enjoy the spectacle instead.
(As usual, you can click on any photo to enlarge it, scroll through them all, and click outside a photo when you're done. Also, you can click on the bold underlined phrases to play the audio.)





























