Solar Eclipse 2024

I was setting up one of the cameras when something started to feel noticeably “off.” Kind of like when a giant patch of clouds obscures the sun for a second in the middle of the summer, but not exactly like that. It was noticeably darker, but somehow still bright. Like if you ramped up the contrast and warmth settings on a tv.

Making it to my friends on the other side of the lake, I put on the glasses to see the moon as it naturally maneuvered in front of the sun. And then: life was like one of those made-for-tv, sci-fi films from the 90s. The kind where they’ve clearly filmed in Los Angeles during the day and added a filter to make it “seem” like night. Except this was real. And unsettling. And exciting. And wonderful.

Then the temperature dropped.

I’d spent the previous day driving across parts of Ohio and Indiana in typical Midwestern spring weather—aggravating, inconsistent bands of sun, rain, heat, and cold—but on eclipse day, we got lucky. Damn lucky. Not a cloud in the sky and warmth so vibrant that it felt more like July than April.

Until totality, when you could feel the coolness creep across your entire body.

Not that I had much time to process that, because the sun had become a black disc haloed by white light that was somehow cosmically beyond white. All while every corner of the horizon emitted an orange twilight hue in air that seemed to be turning purple.

Our surroundings transformed into what felt like a computer generated landscape, one from a video game where you’re about to fight the final boss on some alien planet. Unreal, otherworldly, and utterly indescribable despite the attempts logged in my notebook and cameras. An experience that lasted four minutes and three seconds from where we stood, but felt fleeting—something you’d never be able to truly hold on to or recall in full. A memory that I can already recognize as fading. An experience I may never get to repeat again. Yet, one that transcended all emotion and understanding aside from the calmness and confidence of knowing just how incredible those few moments truly were.

A WCW Hat Signed by Nick Fotiu

Pizza King Ding-A-Ling