Today there was a partial solar eclipse over Edinburgh. I captured it here – it actually looked better through thickish cloud, dimming the blinding brightness.
When I saw this rainbow haze, I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me (or on my camera, since I was looking mostly at the screen) but there it is, the light dispersed and beautiful.
It’s been quiet here. Things are happening behind the scenes. Talks of cover, plans for a reading tour – this latter ephemeral. But so is an eclipse. A passing (and in this case, partial) moment. When people say that reality is dull, I wonder if they’ve ever given themselves time to look up. Or had time to go looking. There’s a total eclipse every few years in different parts of the world. There’s Spring, or if there are no seasons, then other things – coincidences, faded memorials, poems, stories. A poem is real, a story is real. A man folding up a piece of paper and putting it in his pocket, a dog running through a park so fast its legs blur. All that chaos, stillness and wonder, and not infrequently.