Little Miracles
They’re putting out porta-potties along the main drag through town in anticipation of Monday’s solar eclipse. There’s a cache of barricades, too. No idea where those will go. Our grocery store will be closed, which seems odd because that’s a lot of customers to turn away. But it might be really hard for workers to get in. So, I see their point. Besides, I imagine the convenience stores will be open.
This is the second time I’ve been in the path of totality for an eclipse. The first time was 1970 when I found myself in Valdosta, Georgia where I was living while I went to school in Madison, Florida after getting off active duty in the Navy. It was March and it was cloudy. So, it was daylight, then it was dark, then it was daylight and there wasn’t much to see. And I thought about Mark Twain’s, A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court when the locals were wowed by an eclipse, and I could only imagine how early human’s viewed this celestial event.
Now day’s we view it as we view all things, a chance to make money. We’ve monetized nearly every aspect of our lives, up to and including telling people the gender of our unborn children. No birthday is complete unless money has been spent. And my digital calendar is replete with days that need celebrating. As for this eclipse, I heard lots of tales about the outlandish cost of rooms to view a four minute event. As natural wonders go, I imagine it’s worth it. But with a little imagination you could also plant a tree and spend the rest of your life marveling at how something so big and wonderous could come from such a small seed.