“My experience of the 1927 eclipse was unsatisfactory, and it was my own fault. I was just 14 years old. (…) So I had been distracted from seeing the eclipse by this silly idea of trying to get a photo, and I have no memory of the eclipsed Sun, nor of the dark sky. I don't know what the birds did.„ - Alfred Nicholls, Oxford, 6 January 1998.
Kun én gang tidligere har vi oplevet en solformørkelse. Delvis, godt nok. Det var vist tilbage i 1999, hvor vi stadig gik i folkeskole. Jeg husker ikke særlig meget derfra - sansede ingenting, bemærkede ingenting. Jeg var åbenlyst ikke mindblown, hvilket nok også skyldes min unge alder. Michelle og jeg var enige om, at solformørkelsen d. 20. marts 2015 skulle gøres til en uforglemmelig oplevelse - og den skulle hvertfald ikke opleves gennem kameraets snævre linse.
Himlen var omfavnet af et gråligt lagen, der, i ny og næ af vindens sagte blæsen, løftede sløret for denne fine morgens filmlærred. Vi havde plantet os på Oyggjarvegin, på første parket, isoleret fra folkemængden og med en sitrende spænding i maven og tonsvis af positivitet. En halv time til showdown. Vi var rejst til Færøerne for at opleve øerne; det var turens primære formål. Den kommende begivenhed var bare icing on the cake - det havde vi sagt, men nu mærkedes det pludseligt, hvor opslugt vi blev af hele situationen. Vi viftede kraftigt med armene for at hjælpe vinden på vej, så det grålige lagen ville svæve væk og vi kunne nyde solformørkelsen ved åben himmel. Men hverken fagter eller bedende ord havde en effekt. Vi stirrede ængsteligt op mod skyerne og stod tålmodigt og afventende. Pludselig skete der noget! Himlen blev gradvist mørkere og mørkere. En ustabil åbning tillod os at følge månens passage forbi solen. Jeg fjumrede rundt med mine briller, af, på, af. Pludselig råbte Michelle: Smid nu de dumme briller! Og dér var den. På den mørkeblå himmel var en sort disk omringet af en kraftig lys krone. Vi betragtede fængslende det spektakulære syn - dér, for øjnene af os var den totale solformørkelse. Alting gik så hurtigt. Det føltes som et splitsekund og så var lagnet trukket for igen. Der var en ubeskrivelig ekstase i luften. Vi var tilfredse og taknemmelige. Langsomt tog dagslyset over dagen igen. Solformørkelsen var over.
Picture credit (last picture): Sandra Bjarnaskor @sandra_bjarnaskor - thanks for letting us borrow your perfect shot!
So far our only experience with solar eclipses was back in 1999. We were young and was not able to appreciate the experience to its fullest. I don't recall noticing that birds fell silent, the half moon shadows being cast from the trees nor the actual beauty of the event. Michelle and I wanted to experience the total solar eclipse on March 20th 2015 with all our senses and hence down-prioritized our traditional photography eagerness.
The sky was covered by a gray sheet, which every now and then would be shattered by the soft wind, unveiling the stage for today. We had settled ourselves on Oyggjarvegin, front row, isolated from the crowds and with a quivering excitement and a positive gut feeling. Half an hour to showdown. We travelled to the Faroe Islands to experience the islands; that was the primary purpose of our trip. The coming event was just icing on the cake - that was what we had said from the beginning, but now, standing here, it was obvious that we were deeply caught by the whole bustle. We enthusiastically waved our arms to help the wind blow the grey cover away, so we could enjoy the eclipse from an open sky. However, neither gestures nor prays had an effect. We stared anxiously up at the clouds. Waiting patiently. Suddenly something happened! The sky gradually became darker and darker. A small erratic opening allowed us to follow the moon's passage past the sun. I was fighting with my glasses, off, on, off. Michelle suddenly yelled: Dish those goddamn glasses! And there it was. On the dark blue sky was a black disk surrounded by a strong bright crown. We captivatingly admired the spectacular sight - there, before our eyes was the total solar eclipse. Everything went so fast. It felt like a split second before the grey sheet was back at its place. An indescribable euphoria was in the air. We were happy and grateful. Slowly day light took over again. The solar eclipse was over.
The sky was covered by a gray sheet, which every now and then would be shattered by the soft wind, unveiling the stage for today. We had settled ourselves on Oyggjarvegin, front row, isolated from the crowds and with a quivering excitement and a positive gut feeling. Half an hour to showdown. We travelled to the Faroe Islands to experience the islands; that was the primary purpose of our trip. The coming event was just icing on the cake - that was what we had said from the beginning, but now, standing here, it was obvious that we were deeply caught by the whole bustle. We enthusiastically waved our arms to help the wind blow the grey cover away, so we could enjoy the eclipse from an open sky. However, neither gestures nor prays had an effect. We stared anxiously up at the clouds. Waiting patiently. Suddenly something happened! The sky gradually became darker and darker. A small erratic opening allowed us to follow the moon's passage past the sun. I was fighting with my glasses, off, on, off. Michelle suddenly yelled: Dish those goddamn glasses! And there it was. On the dark blue sky was a black disk surrounded by a strong bright crown. We captivatingly admired the spectacular sight - there, before our eyes was the total solar eclipse. Everything went so fast. It felt like a split second before the grey sheet was back at its place. An indescribable euphoria was in the air. We were happy and grateful. Slowly day light took over again. The solar eclipse was over.
