A few days ago I read an article, online, about the total lunar eclipse scheduled for this morning. It sounded like something I’d be interested in watching. I’ve seen a solar eclipse before, but never witnessed a total lunar eclipse.

Around two-thirty this morning, as I was going to bed, the article crossed my mind. I considered sitting my alarm clock for five (the article indicated the eclipse would start around that time in my area). Amazingly my internal alarm woke me around four-forty.

I went outside to find an advantages location for viewing the event. The trees in the backyard blocked my view of the orange orb. I pulled a folding lawn chair onto the front walkway. Sitting in my front yard, in my pajamas, I watched the moon fade.

It wasn’t as exciting as I had anticipated. Unlike a solar eclipse, where a black orb slides across a brighter one, this eclipse appeared more like a shadow fluttering over the moon. It looked a lot like the shadow of a leaf cluster, wobbling over a patio table, on a windless afternoon. A small shadow, just right of the center, grew slowly, like something eating away at the surface of the moon from the inside out. The satellite faded as if passing behind an invisible cloud.

As it faded, I made a few trips inside, to the bathroom and the fridge, changed clothes and pulled out the laptop to do a little research on the phenomena. I found some great information on the NASA Eclipse Home Page http://sunearth.gsfc.nasa.gov/eclipse  but never got the live webcast to work.

It was seventy-five degrees, around six-twenty, when the eclipse reached totality from my front yard in Norman, Oklahoma. Not a big deal. The moon was there, a dark ball, not black, just faded, as if it had become a shadow itself.

Then a tiny sliver of light emerged along the upper left edge. That tiny sliver shone brighter than I ever remembered seeing the moon shine in my life. The song, “There’s a Light in the Darkness” form “Rocky Horror Picture Show” played in my head as I watched the thin strip of light sinking behind the tree-line at the end of my street.

As I lost sight of the shadowed moon, wearing a gleaming beanie, I retreated inside for another trip to the potty. For a moment I considered chasing the moon. I could drive westward and keep watching the cap topping the moon broaden on the horizon. Grabbing the camera, I headed out again. Sunlight invaded the eastern sky.

By seven A.M. I was watching a recap of the eclipse on the morning news. The eclipse was no longer visible from the ground in Oklahoma City. But I had a nice view of the event for a few wee hours of the early morning. My favorite time of the day if I don’t have to get up for it.