Last Sunday as the annular solar eclipse was make believe its way of life down the West Coast , I was channel-surf in Northern Baja , glance up at a gloomy sky and wondering if we would get to see it at all .
The eclipse was suppose to top out around 6:38 that eve , so at 6:15 we loaded into our hand truck and rush down a dirt route away from the coastal fogginess .
I get ta hand it to my ally Austin — he was pumped and pumping the natural gas over Mexico - style potholes and blow on a route none of us had ever been on before .
We were assay to drive as far inland as we could before the sun went down , toward the mountains where we see a intermission in the clouds .
The nautical layer was thick and gray , and we could barely make out the Sunday behind the relentless swarm cover .
With the hand truck charging down the desolate farm route , all of us kept our eyes out the windows for any glimpse of the eclipse . The clouds were begin to disperse and the sky was getting lighter . There was a small window amidst all the gray and I could almost see the Lord’s Day peeking out .
And then — another hundred yards inland , a complete crescent appeared in the sky . “ Eclipse ! ” we all shrieked , and the truck screeched to a arrest .
The clouds turned out to be a blessing , because it dimmed the luminosity enough for us to look at the occultation without special deoxyephedrine or projection . It looked like a moonrise at crepuscle .
I ca n’t remember the last time I saw a solar eclipse … but being there in the Wild West of Baja , standing in the middle of a barren area of earth , find a uncommon phenomenon with my friends after paddling in the ocean just hours before … it all seemed so phantasmagorical and active . I could literally feel all the zip lining up that sidereal day and connecting me to the creation . And as I attempt to draw it , it ’s almost indescribable .
I could never forget that electric feeling .
