Yesterday was one of those that had extreme contrasts. Having done the usual routine and fed and watered the critters time was allocated to watching the near total eclipse which was to take place in clear blue skies.
The place I chose to witness this event was on Hergest Ridge by the Whet Stone (back from the pub) The total eclipse of 1999 I saw in the grounds of a Château in France parleying Franglais and downing vats of champers. I think I saw it anyway. This one I was not going to miss, I was going to ignore it as bereft of any suitable eyewear to see it happen I would have to studiously look away at the key moment, but at least I could say I was there. So there I was, this is the Whet Stone at almost the height of the partial eclipse and despite the sun being some 95% obscured its remarkably light.
This is about as dark as it got, a bit of as disappointment in one way, it got colder, that was noticeable, as was the small group of Hippies sat smoking pot and downing rough cider from demijohns debating the merits of welding masks over commercially available solar eclipse glasses. As they debated these very real 1st world problems yours truly borrowed a communal commercial set and saw the solar spectacle in all its glory and then to have an opinion I had a look through a welders mask. Opinion. Its a dead heat, both were useful and worked, but half a dozen stoned cider drinkers looking skyward with welders masks adorning their features looked more sci fi than the paper solar specs.
This is the unfiltered pic of the sun when there was only 5% showing, its a bright thing isn't it.
Once the story of the day had been dealt with (and work) I set out with the Stable Sprite to the Metropolis for another interesting adventure but this time involving The Dark Side of the Moon.
Pink Floyd have stopped touring on account of death, petty squabbles and idleness but there are legions of fans still hoping that the lead guitarist has a personality transplant and goes on tour with the two other survivors. The band has been together(or not) for 50 years and in that time a few tribute bands have popped up. Now the term tribute act conjures up images of dodgy musicians in a transit van gigging at working mens clubs and vaguely sounding like the act they are stalking, much like the god awful muzak played at B and Q where you know what the song is being played but wonder why anyone would bother recording such a poor attempt. However, the Australian Pink Floyd were very different, in fact they were very much the same as the real thing, and once I figure out how to do it there will be a few clips of the lazer and light show that accompanied the awesome musicianship. Having seen the real Pink Floyd at Wembley the imitation band at the NIA might have been a let down but I have to say they were great and I cannot wait to see them again.