Confessions of an Umbraphile

Sounds dirty, right? But mostly, it's just dark. Briefly. WRITTEN & PHOTOGRAPHED (!) by PETER MOORE

JUST AFTER WE MOVED TO COLORADO, in 2017, excitement began building toward the next Great Eclipse. That August we drove in early-morning darkness, and pre-eclipse traffic jams, to Agate Fossil Beds National Monument in Nebraska, and climbed a butte as the sun rose. When we reached the top we found an Englishman, a Hollywood producer, and a rattlesnake, which sounds like the beginning of a joke, but isn’t. [Feel free to write and share one, in the comments.] Together, we enjoyed the astral shenanigans. Who knew it would be that thrilling to sit in the dark for two minutes and thirty seconds?

The rattler wasn’t too impressed. It was gone when the light returned. But I was hooked! I was now an umbraphile, which translates to “shadow lover” in Latin.

I vowed that I would drive to any eclipse within a reasonable distance, without bothering to define “reasonable.”

Now I have grounds for saying: Eclipse? 740 miles away? Bring it!

Care to join me?