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Dec 21, 2010 01:09

Went out to watch the eclipse tonight. I hurriedly considered several locations to view it from, but in the end, I set out with my mp3 player and my jacket and just walked. I took some pictures, but it was mainly for the sake of having done so; my camera isn't designed for long distance night time photography. Certainly not to take a picture of a shadow behind a cloud. Let's stop for a moment to contemplate the enormity of taking a picture of the moon. It takes the light from the moon over one and a quarter seconds to reach us here on earth. The screen you are reading this post on refreshes its display every 60th of a second. Your monitor can completely change what it is displaying over 75 times in the time it takes for light to get from the moon to the earth. When you consider that, even the meager, blurry pictures I managed to take tonight seem a bit more impressive. Of course, that's not even counting the over 8 minutes it takes the light to get from the sun to the moon in the first place.

There is one thing I will say in the defense of living out in the country over living in a city, and that is this: The star light. It wasn't until I went out to Long Beach with Erin that I finally saw how the night sky is supposed to look. The beauty of that view defies human description, so all that I will say on the topic is that it is absolutely true that the ambient light of a city at night is light pollution. As I walked up and down the street tonight, I was struck by how empty the roads were. Perhaps it was the late hour, or perhaps the optimistic view is correct, and most people had found a spot to watch the eclipse. There was something serene about the empty overpass, with the empty highway beneath it, grass and trees linking the two. Undoubtedly though, the more beautiful view was to be found gazing skyward.

Even with the clouds at times obstructing my view, I was able to take in some breathtaking views of the eclipse. I contemplated the vastness of space, astronomical history, and the liberating insignificance of man in the universe. I was reminded of the words of Ferdinand Magellan...

“The Church says that the earth is flat, but I know that it is round, for I have seen the shadow on the moon, and I have more faith in a shadow than in the Church.”

...and of Carl Sagan...

"We are star stuff."

...whose words really affected me tonight. We; you, I, the earth and the moon, are all star stuff, and in all likelihood, mostly the stuff of the same star. We are, in a way that is both poetic and very real, the brothers and sisters of the moon, and I thought about this as I gazed up our nearest cosmic sibling. It is at once uplifting and humbling to contemplate the origin we share with the moon, and indeed, the earth as well.

I took some time to think about mankind's few short trips to the moon. I read tonight that Allen Sheppard, the first American in space, fell to his knees and wept when he gazed at the earth from the moon. I can't imagine any more appropriate response. The enormity of the task, the majesty of the two celestial bodies, the unconquerable scientific spirit of man...it's a lot to take in all at once.

I want to emphasize this point a bit. This is a video of Oppenheimer, breaking down at the memory of witnessing the first test of an atomic bomb:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n8H7Jibx-c0

That blast was a 20 kiloton explosion, roughly 23.24 gigawatt hours of energy. The first stage of the Saturn V rocket alone produced 141 gigawatts of power for two and a half minutes. There were three stages. It is difficult to be hyperbolic when describing the awesome power of the Saturn V rocket, or the heroic efforts required in its design and construction, as well as that of the payload it carried.

I'm glad I went out to watch this eclipse. I hope you all did as well, but not so much as I hope that you took this opportunity to contemplate the splendor of the universe, and of mankind's unconquerable will to discover it.
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