I saw a broad range of reactions to the August 21 solar eclipse. Some shrugged their shoulders and said, "so what?" Others continued about their day, driving around as if nothing was happening.
And then I saw the other reactions.
Tears streaming down faces on the side of the road. Jaws dropping, and fingers jabbing into the air.
For me, the eclipse brought some deep thoughts on life itself. Those close to me will not be surprised at all by that fact.
I had been excited about the coming eclipse for weeks. I bought a case of eclipse glasses from a NASA-approved business and passed them out to friends and loved ones. I read all the wild stories about how traffic would be gridlocked as everyone gazed into the rare solar eclipse.
I took a long lunch break and watched the event from my driveway. From my house, the eclipse would only be about 97 percent and not the total event to the north. That was all right by me. I watched anyway. By 1:30 p.m., it looked like something had taken a bite out of the sun.
A little more than one hour later, it was over. Just like that. All the hype and excitement ended in a matter of minutes.
It was an astonishing sight, but it was over so fast. I felt a little saddened it was finished. The next day the sun seemed, well, boring.
I realized once again life is full of fantastic, anticipated, fleeting moments passing us in a blink. I realized for the countless time how fast time goes. We need to make each day count.
I guess I didn't need a solar eclipse to provide me with this reminder, but I'll take my motivation or reminder of my mortality however it comes.
With that, I'd better get back to writing. As I always tell my friends and family, these words aren't going to write themselves.