It was dubbed the “Great Solar Eclipse”, the Great North American Eclipse”, and several other lofty names, but in the lower Susquehanna valley, where about 92% of totality was anticipated, the big show was nearly eclipsed by cloud cover. With last week’s rains raising the waters of the river and inundating the moonscape of the Pothole Rocks at Conewago Falls, we didn’t have the option of repeating our eclipse observations of August, 2017, by going there to view this year’s event, so we settled for the next best thing—setting up in the susquehannawildlife.net headquarters garden. So here it is, yesterday’s eclipse…
Here’s one of our first views through a break in the clouds as photographed using a number 12 welder’s glass to shield the camera.
A shot through the welder’s glass with minimal cloud cover reveals a sunspot (AR3628) visible at between ten and eleven o’clock on the solar surface.
Clouds aren’t necessarily a bad thing during a solar eclipse. Putting the welding filter aside, we were able to photograph the sun directly, without risk of damage to the camera. Again, sunspot AR3628 can be seen just off the limb of the moon at between ten and eleven o’clock.
It’s 3:21 P.M. E.D.T., and it’s about as good as it’s going to get. Fortunately for us, the clouds are maximizing the effect.
The sky darkened dramatically as the moon obscured more than 90% of the sun’s disk. Looking toward the northwest, where observers in locations including Erie, Pennsylvania, were experiencing a total solar eclipse, the sky appeared almost night-like.
Here in the lower Susquehanna region, the clouds made our partial solar eclipse an eerie one.
Our home-brew solar-powered radio shut down.
Our male Mourning Dove perched above its nests site and began a premature evening chorus of sorrowful coos.
The flock of Fish Crows that has been lingering in the area for several weeks was seen making their way to a small grove of nearby evergreens where they often spend the night.
Since early winter, Turkey Vultures have been roosting at a site about a half mile from our headquarters. Each evening, they can be seen leisurely riding the late afternoon thermals as they glide in to pass the night at their favored resting spot. During the height of the eclipse, as clouds co-conspired to quickly darken the sky and diminish the thermal updrafts, our local vultures were making a hurried scramble, flapping madly to get back to their roost.
Within fifteen minutes, the cloud cover thinned and the moon started to slide away. Rays of sunshine quickly renewed the pace of an early spring afternoon. Soon, the bees were buzzing around, the crows were out looking for trash, and the vultures were piloting the skies in search of deadbeats.
The Great Eclipse of 2024 left us with a sunny smile.