I have been cribbing for months because Belgian paperwork made us miss going to India in the summer, but if it wasn’t for that, we would have never been in Brussels to watch the solar eclipse. Silver linings, quite literally in this case.
This was Amber’s first solar eclipse, my second. I saw my first through a pinhole camera that my Dad jigged for the family when Noida came in the path of totality in 1995. I remember being impatient at first, and then thrilled. This time, though, was all thrill. And a completely foolish desire (am I sensing a theme here?) to throw away my special glasses and look at this spectacle directly with my naked eyes.
Solar eclipses are magic. Despite the work of chaos agents unnamed who have unmoored my day, I am still basking in the afterglow more than fifteen hours later.