Just about a year ago, my daughter and I climbed multiple stone steps in the Cathedral of Santa Maria del Fiore in Florence, the stunning cathedral finished before Columbus set sail on a journey that changed the fate of the globe. As we climbed, the organ played. The windows were holes in the stone, and wind washed in. Suddenly, we stepped out onto a narrow ledge where we could see down into the giant cathedral. I knew myself part of this ancient building — alive in the most beautiful structure, in a time that flew back to medieval Europe.
Awe. I’ve participated in so many radiant experiences, but peak awe? It’s a rarity. Right? We couldn’t live if we were always in awe: the Florence Duomo, childbirth, a night of the constellations and some psychedelics….
For those of you not in the know, northern Vermont has been amping up anticipation for the total eclipse. For once, the weather cooperated absolutely perfectly. The state shut down. Go home! Enjoy! We sprawled over the wet grass with neighbors. As the moon and sun began to cross, traffic sounds ceased. Did the wind pick up, or could we simply hear better? I had expected a few moments of the lovely night sky in the middle of the afternoon. But no, no. Instead, a radiant world abruptly glowed. Along the mountains where the sun rises scarlet these mornings, the sky was heavenly blue, rimmed with the purest gold. There were no three minutes of totality. No time at all. It was simply us — all of us — breathing and gasping with great joy.
Stony Soil Vermont 
Though I wasn’t agog over the eclipse stuff, what I truly admired was the world’s (or the part of the world in the path of the eclipse) willingness to stop, and look, and be united, even if just for a few minutes. Definitely awe-worthy.
Definitely awesome.
What a perfect – and perfectly beautiful – verbally-offered visual: I had expected a few moments of the lovely night sky in the middle of the afternoon. But no, no. Instead, a radiant world abruptly glowed. Along the mountains where the sun rises scarlet these mornings, the sky was heavenly blue, rimmed with the purest gold.
Ah, expectation vs being present in the moment – which in this case won out, and which you capture so beautifully. Not to mention the core take-away:
There were no three minutes of totality. No time at all. It was simply us — all of us — breathing and gasping with great joy.
Surely there is a message here for us – ALL OF US – and I thank you for expressing it so simply, so powerfully.
That’s so kind. Thank you!
It was the most AWEsome thing I’ve ever seen.
How lovely that sounds. We did not have totality where I am in NH, but the light dimmed to a dusky blue.
Glad you experienced that!
Lovely description. The natural world can more than awe us. ❣️
So true, indeed.
So cool! If we were still in New York we could have driven north an hour or two to see the total eclipse, but sadly we’re 3,000 miles away now. My nephew took some pretty amazing pictures of it though so we are observing it vicariously.
3,000 miles is a haul. At there’s your nephew!
Your wonderful reminded me of something I read in the NYT on Tuesday morning:
“As the moon crossed over the sun yesterday, millions of people from Mazatlán to Maine stopped to gaze upward in a profound experience of awe. The solar eclipse tapped into a primal emotion. It evoked for many a mystical moment, as awareness of the celestial encompassed the earth. It revealed the close dance between spirituality and science.
For a nation pulled apart by every manner of division, the eclipse also offered a moment of unity, however brief. It was a reminder to everyone, on the same day and at the same time, that life can be magical. That being alive is a collective experience. That there is something astonishing about being part of the greater story of things.”
-Elizabeth Dias (via NYT)
Thank you for this clip.
Primal hits the experience perfectly.
Indeed!
oops! It should have read: your wonderful *post*.