In search of the lunar eclipse

Luckily I’m an early riser and when I tuned into the Griffith Observatory’s Facebook page, the eclipse had just started. It was barely anything at all. The commentator said it would be seventy-five minutes until the eclipse was complete. So I went to make a cup of tea and there, through the kitchen window, the moon was shining. I went to grab my camera but by the time I got back my view of the moon had been swaddled in cloud.

Ho-hum – it was still dark and a chilly -1C outside so I took my tea and laptop and went back to bed to watch it in comfort. By now, the moon looked like a black and white drawing, the artist erasing one small part of the edge, as if they weren’t quite happy with the shape. I finished my tea and went back to the kitchen. The sky was lightening but still no sight of the moon.

And then I saw a glow through the trees. Maybe I might catch a glimpse after all. I hurriedly threw on a coat (and one on Molly, too) and we charged into the garden. We were stopped by the gate – the lock had frozen. So back to the kitchen for warm water and then we were out into the fields.

It was magical. The air so fresh and cold and the fields painted with crackling frost. I spotted a couple of dog walkers in the adjacent field and we waved. But otherwise we were alone, in the silence… and the grey-washed sky.

We didn’t hurry our walk. I marvelled at the beauty of the world. Yes, in these flat, Suffolk fields. I know there are spectacular places but beauty’s not a competition, after all. To me, at that moment, the beauty was overwhelming.

At home, I switched my laptop back on and marvelled at the eclipse, at the ‘moon look[ing] orange with a copper hue’ as the commentator said.

I made a pot of tea and set about making eggs benedict – but without the pot, the hollandaise sauce, ham or muffin. Basically a mug of tea and poached eggs on toast.

But sometimes, it’s the way you look at things that matters. I had a fabulous time searching for the lunar eclipse, and a breakfast fit for a queen.