Effects of an Eclipse

​I joined millions of other people stepping outside to watch the solar eclipse as it swept across the Americas this week. I chose an underpopulated rural park and shared a celebrative picnic luncheon beforehand with a friend. It really was the perfect viewing spot beside a sparkling lake, surrounded by budding trees and tilled pastures with an occasional fisherman stopping by to cast a line into the water. We raised our glasses to view the phenomenon and yes, it was stunning.
 
Just as impressive, however, was the impact that the eclipse had on the surrounding wildlife. When only a third of the sun was covered, I noticed that the birds had stopped singing. It was what my protagonist, Remy Lane, noticed in The Sacred Stones, “Songbirds fell silent as if holding their breath in the timeless vignette.” Redwing blackbirds dotting the fields, ducks paddling on the lake, and sparrows fluttering in the trees all grew still. Even the robins gave up their normal land patrol where they endlessly strut about seeking out territorial invaders and worms.
 
Utter calm. Then, hundreds of crickets began chirping and frogs bellowing in a raucous chorus around the lake. This was mid-afternoon. Half of the sun was still visible, yet they sensed the change. I’ve read that bats will fly out of caves en masse, owls will begin hooting, and dogs will howl when an eclipse occurs – even when they are not on the direct path (i.e., there is still sunlight present). Amazing.
 
Yet all we humans managed to do was oooh and ahhh, taking pictures with our cell phones – like anyone who saw the eclipse will ever forget how it looked. Once again, I am utterly impressed by wildlife which is so beautifully in tune with the universe. What a shame we’ve lost that nurturing connection in our rush toward progress.