Chasing the Sun Again
I'm in LA, packing for my next journey. Tomorrow morning I leave for Egypt to see the total eclipse of the sun there on March 29th (and the pyramids and all that other Egypt stuff). I'll be in Egypt for 2 weeks, and then I go to Israel and Palestine for another 2 weeks.
Eclipses have always been magical. At best, they are the kiss between the Sun and the Moon, at worst, the are the sun being brutally raped and/or eaten by the moon. And each one is different. I'm looking forward to discovering what Egypt is like where Ra, the Sun God, was so prominent.
Here is an article I wrote about eclipse mythology and magic after seeing the eclipse in the carribean. It doesn't include anything from the 1999 Eclipse in Transylvania. This eclipse will be my 4th. Chasing the sun is a hell of a way to plan vacations... :-)
Chasing the Sun by Andy
February 26, 1998, 11 a.m. -- Onboard the cruise ship Norwegian Sea northeast of Curaçao -- As I write this, clouds blanket the sky. The eclipse is still three hours away. The voice of our captain, Odd Strom, just told us over the intercom that he was changing course and putting the ship in full gear in an attempt to break out from under the clouds and catch up with the sun in time for the eclipse. We are chasing the sun.
The captain's Norwegian accent and our chase remind me of another Nordic chaser: the Fenris Wolf. In the Norse mythology, the sun and the moon were created by the gods to bring light to the world. They put them in flying chariots so that they could ride across the heavens and light all the earth. There were hungry wolves in those days, and the wolves would chase the sun and moon. When the wolves caught one of the heavenly bodies, they would eat it, making the sky go dark. The heat from the body would force the wolf to regurgitate it, returning the light to the sky. This is what causes eclipses. During Ragnarok, the last battle at the end of the world, the great Fenris Wolf himself will eat the sun and the world will go dark forever.
Noon -- We break out from the clouds, and light returns to the world. The newly radiant sun reflects off the waves turning the sea into a shimmering mirror of silver. The dazzling reflection of the sun reminds me of the tale of Amaterasu, the Japanese goddess of the sun. When Amaterasu became the sun goddess, her brother Susanowo (the god of storms, earthquakes and all things chaotic) was consumed with jealousy at her position. After his rage had stewed for a time, he paid a "visit" to his sister. First, he destroyed her fields and gardens. Amaterasu forgave him. Then he destroyed her great palace in the heavens. Again Amaterasu forgave him. Finally, Susanowo defiled Amaterasu's sacred virgins. This, she could not forgive. She felt great shame and anger at all the horrors her brother had committed and fled from the sky. She secreted herself in a cave, sealed with a boulder, and the world was plunged into darkness.
The other gods knew something had to be done. Without Amaterasu, the entire world would perish. They went to her cave and pleaded with her to come out. As she would not be moved, they came up with another plan. They had a party outside her cave. They laughed and danced and sang as if they didn't care that Amaterasu was gone. She heard them and became curious. "What did they have to be happy about?" she wondered. She had to know and opened the cave. Peeking out, she saw a goddess of dazzling beauty. She left the cave, entranced by the radiant goddess. The other gods shut the cave behind her, and light returned to the world. Of course, the other goddess was but a mirror reflecting Amaterasu's radiance back at her. From her high vantage, Amaterasu sees all the things that happen in the day. Occasionally horror, anger and shame at what she sees drive her back to her cave. This is what causes eclipses.
12:41 p.m. -- First contact -- The edge of the disk of sun (seen through the filters) has a piece missing. It is as if a mouse has been gnawing on the sun.
Mice and the sun take my mind back to ancient Greece. A myriad of conflicting sun mythologies come from this area. One of the more interesting ones concerns Apollo. Apollo was always a light god, but some evidence shows that he may have originally been a moon god. In Homer, he was said to "descend like the night." As Apollo Smintheus, he ruled over mice, and statues and altars devoted to him often show mice gathered at his feet. Mice are often connected to the night and the moon. Mythically, mice nibble on the moon, slowly eating it and causing its phases. This may be why the moon was believed to be made of cheese.
Apollo became a sun god much later. Hyperion and Theia were the original Greek sun gods. When the Indo-Europeans moved in, they transformed Hyperion and Theia into Titans. Theia gave birth to Helios, who became the new Greek sun god and who rode in a chariot as his father Hyperion had before him. Over time, as reason and logic gained in popularity, so did Apollo. He became associated with Helios and often rode with him. When the Romans took over, Apollo became Sol Invictus, the All-Conquering Sun. Helios and Theia were forgotten. The domination of logic, reason and all things Apollonian was complete. When Sol Inviticus became another name for Christ, even Apollo the mouse-moon god was no more.
1:15 p.m. -- The eclipse is progressing. Waiters come by offering people "Solar Sangrias" and, of course, Corona beer. Just an hour to go now.
The Coronas combine with the rise of Apollo to take me back into mire of the ever-changing Greek solar mythologies. Assuming the sun is a god or goddess, the question comes to mind: What does he or she look like? It is hard to answer. You can't look at the sun. Picture a head, one so radiant that you can't look at it. During an eclipse, you can see the sun's flaming corona radiating outward, flames which writhe and dance over time like snakes. Does that sound familiar? There is some evidence that Medusa began her mythic career as a pre-Olympian sun goddess.
Ancient cultures often saw the sun as female. It wasn't until the later Greek (and then the Roman and especially the Christian) times that the sun was seen as almost exclusively male. Women and feminine things came to be seen as dark and chaotic, things of the night. Myths that featured sun goddesses (like Theia) were transformed so that the all-powerful ruling sun was male (like Apollo).
Part of the historical disempowerment of women and the rise of patriarchy was the denial and destruction of powerful female symbols. As the sun became male, the moon became female. Women were seen as weak, pale versions of men as the moon was seen as a weak, pale version of the sun. Women were taught that they were emotional and without power. When they believed it, they were. Actual feminine power became evil. The evolution of the Medusa myth makes this plain.
In the early Greek writings, Medusa cannot be looked at directly. She can only be seen in reflections and mirrors, just like the sun. She was often depicted as a disembodied head with rays, which may or may not be snakes, radiating outward in all directions. Looking upon her was fatal, as blindness was often fatal in primitive cultures. Petrification is a much later addition to the myth. The Greeks adapted those early myths to join with their own. Where possible, the old gods became the Titans, the parents and enemies of the new Olympian ones. Medusa, as goddess of the sun, was too potent an image just to retire as a Titan. She had to be killed.
Enter Athena: a goddess of teaching, logic and reason, She who sprang whole from the head of Zeus after he consumed her mother (and thus claimed the female power of reproduction). To those later Greeks, Athena was the perfect women. Virginal, logical and learned, she was everything they thought that Medusa should be. She was also the stepsister of the up-and-coming sun god Apollo. If Athena were to kill Medusa herself, she would again have claimed the male power of killing in her own right. This was something the Greeks were trying to wean her of in the evolution of her own myths. She had to get Perseus, a mortal and a man, to do the job. She gives him her weapons so he can kill Medusa.
Using a mirror to see her, Perseus cuts off Medusa's head and she dies. Notice how the mirror and disembodied head, both symbols of the sun's power, are now symbols of her death. To add insult to injury, from Medusa's blood (a symbol of the feminine power of creation) springs the Pegasus, a glorified horse for the man who slew her to ride around on. Again, feminine power now serves the man.
1:36 p.m. -- The sun is over half-covered by the moon. Through the filter, the sun looks like a half moon at night. People are punching round holes in paper to see the croissant-shaped shadows they cast. This reminds me of the June 11, 1991, eclipse that I saw from a little village in Mexico. There, it was the light shining between the leaves of the trees that cast myriad croissants for my viewing pleasure.
In Mexico, I was lucky. Natives from the mountains had come down to the sea to conduct an ancient eclipse ritual. The day before the eclipse, they erected a mock Aztec pyramid on the beach. Made of wood and cloth, the pyramid was a multileveled platform, about six feet high. As on the original Aztec pyramids, steps rose up the front. On eclipse day, everyone was wakened by the sound of conch shells blown to welcome the dawn. The sky was overcast as is traditional on eclipse days. The natives came out in traditional ritual garb. They wore loincloths and were bare-chested. Long, brightly colored and decorated capes flowed off their backs. Some wore elaborate headdresses and many wore necklaces, both made of feathers, cloth, shells and so on. They began dancing and performed rites until the clouds parted and the sun was clearly visible.
At first contact, the ritual began in earnest. Although I couldn't understand the language they were speaking, I could follow much of the ritual. First they cast and purified a circle, then they invoked the elements. On the pyramid/altar stood the priest and his helpers. He made offerings of smoke, grain mush, water and earth as the elements were called. A story was told and reenacted of four brothers (and their armies) fighting a great war. The brothers and their men were dressed in clothes the colors of their elements. For a time they fought. Then something changed.
The circle was defined by a ring of 50 or so people in yellow garb. We travelers formed an outer ring outside that one. A new smaller group of people dressed in black entered the circle and began their own dance. Around and around they went, tracing out a small circle inside and at the edge of the big circle. As I watched, the circle they danced grew bigger and bigger. With each iteration they expanded their circle. Then it hit me: they were the moon and the yellow circle was the sun. The moon circle grew bigger as more of the moon covered more of the sun. The battle stopped when the black circle started to cover the yellow one. The black circle continued to grow until it reached the edge of the yellow one. That was when totality hit. The sky went dark as night and the torches on the corners of the pyramid flared to life. The priest raised his arms and everyone started howling. I howled, the priest howled, and the brothers and their armies howled. On and on it went. A primal scream was the only possible answer to the flood of dark energy that came from the devouring hole where the sun had been. Then it was over. Our screams had chased away the sun's devourer and light returned to the world. Working together instead of fighting, the brothers had saved the sun, and peace was restored along with the light.
2:05 p.m. -- The eclipse is close now. The sun is just a crescent, and it is starting to get dark. Even without a ritual, I can feel the energy welling up. People are quiet now, and the only sounds come from the engines and the wind. I will write more afterward....
2:14 p.m. -- Totality -- As one, everyone stands. Like the ancients daring to face Medusa, the eclipse virgins try to decide if it really is safe to look at the sun without their filters. It is, of course. It is like night, and people begin cheering and howling. Amazement and wonder fills the crowd. It is the wedding of the sun and moon made manifest. A strange tingling fills me. The cries fade, and everyone just stares at the eclipse in awed silence. A silver ring around a pit of pure darkness. Truly, it is a space between the worlds and a time without time. Without the ritual forms of Mexico, it seems a quiet mystery, full of magic and unknown potential. Suddenly, there is a flash and a diamond of purest brilliance adorns the silver wedding ring. Then it is over. Spent, as if from wild sex, the people collapse back into their chairs.
2:45 p.m. -- The light has long since returned, and the only sign of the eclipse is the retreating croissant still visible in the filters. People are laughing, dancing, drinking and having a party.
The party reminds me of Bedouin in Afghanistan. Throughout the world's mythologies, eclipses are feared and hated. The sun, the giver of life, is being devoured, murdered, raped or mutilated. At best, it is the sun and moon having an unnatural (usually incestuous) love affair. Totality is the darkest and most evil of times, and eclipses are generally seen as bad omens. The only people I can find who like eclipses are the Bedouin.
The Bedouin, being nomadic desert people, hate the sun. She is a bony, mean old woman who hates them and tries to kill them on a daily basis. It is she who dries up the water and rots the plants. The sun also has a voracious appetite for sex. It is her husband, the moon, who they worship. The cool, gentle moon condenses dew for them and makes the plants grow. Her husband will only have sex with her once a month, at full moon, which does nothing to improve her disposition. Having sex with the sun is so traumatic and draining that the moon shrivels. It takes him a full month to recover, and that is what causes the phases of the moon.
As the wolves chased the Norse sun and moon, a demon chases the Bedouin ones. During a solar eclipse, the demon catches and eats the evil sun woman. The Bedouin cheer and root for the demon when this happens. Unfortunately, just as in the Norse myth, the sun's heat forces her regurgitation. The sun's temporary defeat gives the Bedouin hope that someday she will die and the moon will reign, in happiness, forever. They celebrate eclipses with parties.
Eclipses are times of great natural power. How you see that power depends on the ritual framework you are using. In Mexico, the darkest of energies abounded. I assume that a Bedouin ritual would involve great benevolent power. On the cruise ship, it lacked moral direction and thus was just a profound mystery. It is the people and their beliefs who shape the energies of an eclipse.
The next eclipse is on August 11, 1999. It will cross the southern tip of England, go into France, Germany and Eastern Europe, finally ending in the Black Sea. If anyone knows of any good stone circles in southern England, write me at this paper. Eclipse mythology is extremely difficult to find. The best sources I found were Eclipse of the Sun, a hard-to-find book by Janet McCrickard (ISBN 0-906362-13-X) and Oh Mother Sun!, a more recent and more available book by Patricia Monaghan (ISBN 0-89594-722- 6). Both books are about feminine sun images and their suppression. Most of the information about Apollo and Medusa came from the Oh Mother Sun!, while most of the eclipse information came from Eclipse of the Sun.
Eclipses have always been magical. At best, they are the kiss between the Sun and the Moon, at worst, the are the sun being brutally raped and/or eaten by the moon. And each one is different. I'm looking forward to discovering what Egypt is like where Ra, the Sun God, was so prominent.
Here is an article I wrote about eclipse mythology and magic after seeing the eclipse in the carribean. It doesn't include anything from the 1999 Eclipse in Transylvania. This eclipse will be my 4th. Chasing the sun is a hell of a way to plan vacations... :-)
Chasing the Sun by Andy
February 26, 1998, 11 a.m. -- Onboard the cruise ship Norwegian Sea northeast of Curaçao -- As I write this, clouds blanket the sky. The eclipse is still three hours away. The voice of our captain, Odd Strom, just told us over the intercom that he was changing course and putting the ship in full gear in an attempt to break out from under the clouds and catch up with the sun in time for the eclipse. We are chasing the sun.
The captain's Norwegian accent and our chase remind me of another Nordic chaser: the Fenris Wolf. In the Norse mythology, the sun and the moon were created by the gods to bring light to the world. They put them in flying chariots so that they could ride across the heavens and light all the earth. There were hungry wolves in those days, and the wolves would chase the sun and moon. When the wolves caught one of the heavenly bodies, they would eat it, making the sky go dark. The heat from the body would force the wolf to regurgitate it, returning the light to the sky. This is what causes eclipses. During Ragnarok, the last battle at the end of the world, the great Fenris Wolf himself will eat the sun and the world will go dark forever.
Noon -- We break out from the clouds, and light returns to the world. The newly radiant sun reflects off the waves turning the sea into a shimmering mirror of silver. The dazzling reflection of the sun reminds me of the tale of Amaterasu, the Japanese goddess of the sun. When Amaterasu became the sun goddess, her brother Susanowo (the god of storms, earthquakes and all things chaotic) was consumed with jealousy at her position. After his rage had stewed for a time, he paid a "visit" to his sister. First, he destroyed her fields and gardens. Amaterasu forgave him. Then he destroyed her great palace in the heavens. Again Amaterasu forgave him. Finally, Susanowo defiled Amaterasu's sacred virgins. This, she could not forgive. She felt great shame and anger at all the horrors her brother had committed and fled from the sky. She secreted herself in a cave, sealed with a boulder, and the world was plunged into darkness.
The other gods knew something had to be done. Without Amaterasu, the entire world would perish. They went to her cave and pleaded with her to come out. As she would not be moved, they came up with another plan. They had a party outside her cave. They laughed and danced and sang as if they didn't care that Amaterasu was gone. She heard them and became curious. "What did they have to be happy about?" she wondered. She had to know and opened the cave. Peeking out, she saw a goddess of dazzling beauty. She left the cave, entranced by the radiant goddess. The other gods shut the cave behind her, and light returned to the world. Of course, the other goddess was but a mirror reflecting Amaterasu's radiance back at her. From her high vantage, Amaterasu sees all the things that happen in the day. Occasionally horror, anger and shame at what she sees drive her back to her cave. This is what causes eclipses.
12:41 p.m. -- First contact -- The edge of the disk of sun (seen through the filters) has a piece missing. It is as if a mouse has been gnawing on the sun.
Mice and the sun take my mind back to ancient Greece. A myriad of conflicting sun mythologies come from this area. One of the more interesting ones concerns Apollo. Apollo was always a light god, but some evidence shows that he may have originally been a moon god. In Homer, he was said to "descend like the night." As Apollo Smintheus, he ruled over mice, and statues and altars devoted to him often show mice gathered at his feet. Mice are often connected to the night and the moon. Mythically, mice nibble on the moon, slowly eating it and causing its phases. This may be why the moon was believed to be made of cheese.
Apollo became a sun god much later. Hyperion and Theia were the original Greek sun gods. When the Indo-Europeans moved in, they transformed Hyperion and Theia into Titans. Theia gave birth to Helios, who became the new Greek sun god and who rode in a chariot as his father Hyperion had before him. Over time, as reason and logic gained in popularity, so did Apollo. He became associated with Helios and often rode with him. When the Romans took over, Apollo became Sol Invictus, the All-Conquering Sun. Helios and Theia were forgotten. The domination of logic, reason and all things Apollonian was complete. When Sol Inviticus became another name for Christ, even Apollo the mouse-moon god was no more.
1:15 p.m. -- The eclipse is progressing. Waiters come by offering people "Solar Sangrias" and, of course, Corona beer. Just an hour to go now.
The Coronas combine with the rise of Apollo to take me back into mire of the ever-changing Greek solar mythologies. Assuming the sun is a god or goddess, the question comes to mind: What does he or she look like? It is hard to answer. You can't look at the sun. Picture a head, one so radiant that you can't look at it. During an eclipse, you can see the sun's flaming corona radiating outward, flames which writhe and dance over time like snakes. Does that sound familiar? There is some evidence that Medusa began her mythic career as a pre-Olympian sun goddess.
Ancient cultures often saw the sun as female. It wasn't until the later Greek (and then the Roman and especially the Christian) times that the sun was seen as almost exclusively male. Women and feminine things came to be seen as dark and chaotic, things of the night. Myths that featured sun goddesses (like Theia) were transformed so that the all-powerful ruling sun was male (like Apollo).
Part of the historical disempowerment of women and the rise of patriarchy was the denial and destruction of powerful female symbols. As the sun became male, the moon became female. Women were seen as weak, pale versions of men as the moon was seen as a weak, pale version of the sun. Women were taught that they were emotional and without power. When they believed it, they were. Actual feminine power became evil. The evolution of the Medusa myth makes this plain.
In the early Greek writings, Medusa cannot be looked at directly. She can only be seen in reflections and mirrors, just like the sun. She was often depicted as a disembodied head with rays, which may or may not be snakes, radiating outward in all directions. Looking upon her was fatal, as blindness was often fatal in primitive cultures. Petrification is a much later addition to the myth. The Greeks adapted those early myths to join with their own. Where possible, the old gods became the Titans, the parents and enemies of the new Olympian ones. Medusa, as goddess of the sun, was too potent an image just to retire as a Titan. She had to be killed.
Enter Athena: a goddess of teaching, logic and reason, She who sprang whole from the head of Zeus after he consumed her mother (and thus claimed the female power of reproduction). To those later Greeks, Athena was the perfect women. Virginal, logical and learned, she was everything they thought that Medusa should be. She was also the stepsister of the up-and-coming sun god Apollo. If Athena were to kill Medusa herself, she would again have claimed the male power of killing in her own right. This was something the Greeks were trying to wean her of in the evolution of her own myths. She had to get Perseus, a mortal and a man, to do the job. She gives him her weapons so he can kill Medusa.
Using a mirror to see her, Perseus cuts off Medusa's head and she dies. Notice how the mirror and disembodied head, both symbols of the sun's power, are now symbols of her death. To add insult to injury, from Medusa's blood (a symbol of the feminine power of creation) springs the Pegasus, a glorified horse for the man who slew her to ride around on. Again, feminine power now serves the man.
1:36 p.m. -- The sun is over half-covered by the moon. Through the filter, the sun looks like a half moon at night. People are punching round holes in paper to see the croissant-shaped shadows they cast. This reminds me of the June 11, 1991, eclipse that I saw from a little village in Mexico. There, it was the light shining between the leaves of the trees that cast myriad croissants for my viewing pleasure.
In Mexico, I was lucky. Natives from the mountains had come down to the sea to conduct an ancient eclipse ritual. The day before the eclipse, they erected a mock Aztec pyramid on the beach. Made of wood and cloth, the pyramid was a multileveled platform, about six feet high. As on the original Aztec pyramids, steps rose up the front. On eclipse day, everyone was wakened by the sound of conch shells blown to welcome the dawn. The sky was overcast as is traditional on eclipse days. The natives came out in traditional ritual garb. They wore loincloths and were bare-chested. Long, brightly colored and decorated capes flowed off their backs. Some wore elaborate headdresses and many wore necklaces, both made of feathers, cloth, shells and so on. They began dancing and performed rites until the clouds parted and the sun was clearly visible.
At first contact, the ritual began in earnest. Although I couldn't understand the language they were speaking, I could follow much of the ritual. First they cast and purified a circle, then they invoked the elements. On the pyramid/altar stood the priest and his helpers. He made offerings of smoke, grain mush, water and earth as the elements were called. A story was told and reenacted of four brothers (and their armies) fighting a great war. The brothers and their men were dressed in clothes the colors of their elements. For a time they fought. Then something changed.
The circle was defined by a ring of 50 or so people in yellow garb. We travelers formed an outer ring outside that one. A new smaller group of people dressed in black entered the circle and began their own dance. Around and around they went, tracing out a small circle inside and at the edge of the big circle. As I watched, the circle they danced grew bigger and bigger. With each iteration they expanded their circle. Then it hit me: they were the moon and the yellow circle was the sun. The moon circle grew bigger as more of the moon covered more of the sun. The battle stopped when the black circle started to cover the yellow one. The black circle continued to grow until it reached the edge of the yellow one. That was when totality hit. The sky went dark as night and the torches on the corners of the pyramid flared to life. The priest raised his arms and everyone started howling. I howled, the priest howled, and the brothers and their armies howled. On and on it went. A primal scream was the only possible answer to the flood of dark energy that came from the devouring hole where the sun had been. Then it was over. Our screams had chased away the sun's devourer and light returned to the world. Working together instead of fighting, the brothers had saved the sun, and peace was restored along with the light.
2:05 p.m. -- The eclipse is close now. The sun is just a crescent, and it is starting to get dark. Even without a ritual, I can feel the energy welling up. People are quiet now, and the only sounds come from the engines and the wind. I will write more afterward....
2:14 p.m. -- Totality -- As one, everyone stands. Like the ancients daring to face Medusa, the eclipse virgins try to decide if it really is safe to look at the sun without their filters. It is, of course. It is like night, and people begin cheering and howling. Amazement and wonder fills the crowd. It is the wedding of the sun and moon made manifest. A strange tingling fills me. The cries fade, and everyone just stares at the eclipse in awed silence. A silver ring around a pit of pure darkness. Truly, it is a space between the worlds and a time without time. Without the ritual forms of Mexico, it seems a quiet mystery, full of magic and unknown potential. Suddenly, there is a flash and a diamond of purest brilliance adorns the silver wedding ring. Then it is over. Spent, as if from wild sex, the people collapse back into their chairs.
2:45 p.m. -- The light has long since returned, and the only sign of the eclipse is the retreating croissant still visible in the filters. People are laughing, dancing, drinking and having a party.
The party reminds me of Bedouin in Afghanistan. Throughout the world's mythologies, eclipses are feared and hated. The sun, the giver of life, is being devoured, murdered, raped or mutilated. At best, it is the sun and moon having an unnatural (usually incestuous) love affair. Totality is the darkest and most evil of times, and eclipses are generally seen as bad omens. The only people I can find who like eclipses are the Bedouin.
The Bedouin, being nomadic desert people, hate the sun. She is a bony, mean old woman who hates them and tries to kill them on a daily basis. It is she who dries up the water and rots the plants. The sun also has a voracious appetite for sex. It is her husband, the moon, who they worship. The cool, gentle moon condenses dew for them and makes the plants grow. Her husband will only have sex with her once a month, at full moon, which does nothing to improve her disposition. Having sex with the sun is so traumatic and draining that the moon shrivels. It takes him a full month to recover, and that is what causes the phases of the moon.
As the wolves chased the Norse sun and moon, a demon chases the Bedouin ones. During a solar eclipse, the demon catches and eats the evil sun woman. The Bedouin cheer and root for the demon when this happens. Unfortunately, just as in the Norse myth, the sun's heat forces her regurgitation. The sun's temporary defeat gives the Bedouin hope that someday she will die and the moon will reign, in happiness, forever. They celebrate eclipses with parties.
Eclipses are times of great natural power. How you see that power depends on the ritual framework you are using. In Mexico, the darkest of energies abounded. I assume that a Bedouin ritual would involve great benevolent power. On the cruise ship, it lacked moral direction and thus was just a profound mystery. It is the people and their beliefs who shape the energies of an eclipse.
The next eclipse is on August 11, 1999. It will cross the southern tip of England, go into France, Germany and Eastern Europe, finally ending in the Black Sea. If anyone knows of any good stone circles in southern England, write me at this paper. Eclipse mythology is extremely difficult to find. The best sources I found were Eclipse of the Sun, a hard-to-find book by Janet McCrickard (ISBN 0-906362-13-X) and Oh Mother Sun!, a more recent and more available book by Patricia Monaghan (ISBN 0-89594-722- 6). Both books are about feminine sun images and their suppression. Most of the information about Apollo and Medusa came from the Oh Mother Sun!, while most of the eclipse information came from Eclipse of the Sun.