Editor Kurt Hildebrand looks up at the sun for the eclipse. Photo by Angelle M. Hildebrand.
A dozen of us were on “The Hill,” where my sister and her husband live northeast of Dallas watching as heavy clouds crossed the sky between us and the sun.
As we were watching the weather, it was possible that Monday afternoon’s total eclipse of the sun would be eclipsed by the atmosphere. The Weather Service was predicting 60-65 percent cloud cover for that afternoon, and if anything, was a bit light.
My brother-in-law wasn’t even sure we’d get the full ring.
I’d purchased an eclipse lens for the camera, but of course I assumed that was all I would need. On Monday morning, it was so overcast you couldn’t even see the sun, which didn’t help with focusing.
But by the afternoon the clouds were parting, and I was spending much of the time trying to figure out how to focus the camera in the dark while wearing dark glasses.
After spending a frustrating amount of time fiddling with the camera, I finally just looked up to see the burning ring of fire that was the sun along with members of my extended family in an obscure corner of Texas as my sister’s play list hit “Total Eclipse of the Heart.”
As it turns out, the total eclipse of the sun wasn’t the highlight of my trip to Dallas. That was using my brother-in-law’s bug zapper shaped like a tennis racket to explode a mosquito. That and being present with family was far more exhilarating than anything that occurred overhead.
