Heavenly Symmetry

A first impression the prospect of traveling halfway across the country to catch an annular eclipse seemed extravagant to me. After all, we do not get to see the ghostly corona and fiery prominences during that period where Moon occults Sun. The stars do not come out and nature reacts far less confused when the Sun, even a small amount of it, remains exposed. You might be tempted to equate it with seeing a 99% partial eclipse of the Sun. 

However, the facts were that witnessing an Annular Solar Eclipse was an unchecked item on my astronomy bucket list, and the one this October was (given my age and location) very likely my last opportunity to catch such an event. What the heck - YOLO, right?

The first step in the journey was selecting a location. Studying the path and the weather prospects I decided to target New Mexico for a long weekend. The path crossed two interesting cities - Albuquerque and Roswell. Given the almost legendary dark skies of the southwest I felt that spending a couple evenings at an Airbnb outside Roswell might offer the additional perks of checking out the UFO/Alien scene in Roswell by day and then enjoying a star-studded sky in the evenings. By the end of March I had my flight, rental car, and accommodations all set. 

Practice Run Capturing Clouds & Sun

Discussing my plans over Labor Day weekend with my son Dave I was delighted that he took me up on my offer to come along. We edited the itinerary a bit so that we'd be at the Albuquerque Balloon Festival to witness the eclipse rather than Roswell. With the venue change I pondered whether I might get a unique photo opportunity since there were plans to launch balloons during the eclipse. I spent the next several weeks researching how to filter the Sun sufficiently while still getting some of the background in the picture, something I've seen before that make annular/partial solar eclipse photos interesting. In the end a set of neutral density filters (one of them variable) and an IR/UV blocking filter seemed to offer the promise that if a balloon floated by the eclipsed Sun I could hopefully capture that bit of serendipity.

Travel day - Friday the 13th - started off with a curveball. Southwest texted me at 6 a.m. that they had cancelled the first leg our flight and rebooked us to a direct flight that was departing a half hour earlier. We hustled along to get to the airport to allow enough time to check bags and clear security (I was happy that my long rectangular box holding my tripod was not any issue getting checked in). Several hours later we were in Albuquerque and scouting out online reviews for a good Tex-Mex lunch.

The next morning as we stepped out from the room we could see a host of colorful hot-air balloons hanging off in the distance. The weather, despite forecasts for 80% clouds at the start of the week, looked promising with some scattered, high cirrus hanging around. We Ubered to the Balloon Festival field with camera, tripod, folding chair, and filtered binoculars in tow by 8:15. It was packed, but fortunately the field was quite large and accommodated the tons of people who had assembled for a good time. We found our plot of land and set up our little camp.

The first 45 minutes we enjoyed seeing some of the colorful and fanciful balloons taking off. A pretty steady breeze out of the north was making it a chilly fall morning, and unfortunately it soon caused the event planners to put a hold on launching any more balloons. The field MC was providing a running commentary of what was going on interspersed with some music.

8:38 a.m. MDT

I strap on the mylar solar filters to my 7x50 binoculars and check out the Sun. No major sunspots are present but a couple can be made out when I steady my hand. I fire off a couple of shots to refine the exposure settings and await for the action to begin. 

9:15 a.m. MDT

The announcer tells the crowd that the eclipse has begun, and a bit of a cheer goes up as everyone sees the tiny, initial bite taken out of the top of the Sun using our solar safety glasses that were being passed out upon entering the field. Which makes me wonder - how disappointed were the vendors that were trying to sell them? 😏

Moon marching across the Solar disk, ready to cover AR3465

The field MC provides updates on the eclipse's progress between the songs being played, and in a moment of bad science around quarter after 10 he mentions that people with good eyesight might see that the edge of the Moon has crept up upon the sunspot and will be covering it soon. While AR3465 is clearly the largest sunspot on the face of ol' Sol today and easily seen in my binoculars, it would be impossible for us to see it naked eye.

With about 20 minutes before 2nd contact we're also told that there won't be any balloon launches as we approach maximum. It's a disappointment but understandable as the winds have been constant since our arrival and would likely make it too dangerous. They still hope to do a "balloon glow" on the field during the time of greatest eclipse where the balloon is inflated but tethered to the ground.

10:20 a.m. MDT

I stop for a moment to look for Venus, and it takes very little time for me to pick it out high above us in the deep blue desert sky (even without my "distance" glasses). Once I point to it Dave can also quickly see it, although at first is not sure whether it's a plane at high altitude catching the glint of sunlight. The binoculars quickly resolve the question as I can see a disk exhibiting a phase to it. I try to grab a picture of it but the camera cannot do it, yielding only an overexposed sky, yet again demonstrating the amazing ability of our eyes to take in a logarithmic range of brightness that a CMOS sensor cannot.

By 10:25 the field has taken on that odd late-in-the-afternoon light that seems surreal for the hour of the day. There is not any wildlife in the area to observe, but given how my human instinct tells me the Sun should be close to setting I strongly suspect that our fellow animals are likely reacting to the change in light, albeit not as profoundly as in a total eclipse. 

This is the first eclipse I have experienced without any of the "pinhole projector" effects. Normally there are some deciduous trees around and they provide the multiple crescent images at this point, but in a wide, empty field suited for hot-air balloons there are none. The field announcer mentions that if you have a Saltine cracker, the dozen or so holes that perforate it will serve nicely as a makeshift projector. Perhaps that should have been part of the handout along with the solar eclipse glasses? 😄

With less than 10 minutes to go we are told that even the balloon glow cannot take place due to the winds, and instead the best that can be done is a "candlestick", where the propane burner is fired to create a tower of flame sans balloon. 

And finally we are at the moment we've waited for!

10:34:41 MDT

Second contact is announced and the crowd cheers as people begin to make out the off-center unbroken ring of light encircling the Moon.

10:37:12 MDT

We've reached the climax of maximum eclipse. To the unfiltered eye the Sun is still glaring and without hint of being 90% covered, but with eclipse glasses, and especially in the binoculars, there is this amazing alignment to behold. A perfect glowing circle of bright light that seems like it is a Hollywood special effect made for Lord of the Rings stands before us. Lots of cheers and the roar of the hot-air balloon burners lighting up the field makes the entire experience unique and unforgettable. This is what I came for - that incredible, visceral connection that an eclipse can provide during those brief seconds of totality/annularity. While I wondered if the annular version would come close in that impact, the stunning symmetry in the sky does not disappoint!  

Facebook Livestream:

10:39:35 MDT

All too soon Luna has crept to the eastern solar rim and prepares to exit. Dave is using the binoculars as we head to 3rd contact and - without any foreknowledge of the Baily's Beads effect - mentions to me that he sees the brief sparkling of the sunlight along the Moon's limb as it exits. My constant firing off shots allows me to also capture the phenomenon digitally.  

As the Moon begins to retreat from the face of the Sun, many of the folks assembled on the field begin to head out as well. It really has become noticeably cooler, and judging from the comments I overhear I am not the only one wishing I had brought a heavier jacket. While it is a bit anti-climatic it seems that it would be almost rude for me to break down the modest equipment and hail our Uber. Dave takes the time to explore the long line of vendors' tents in search of some souvenirs for us to remember the day while I continue to document the egress towards 4th contact. 

By noon we collapse the tripod and camp chair and place the request for our ride. With only a few more minutes left I take my final shots of the Moon departing the Sun in hand-held fashion as we make our way out. While not the epic traffic jam that I encountered following the 2017 total eclipse, the wait and fees for the Uber tell us that a lot of people have participated in this annular eclipse. While a bit tired I am joyful at what God granted me in witnessing this eclipse with my son and checking off another of my astronomical bucket-list items!