When Time Collided in the Sky

                      

There I was, all bundled up in a lawn chair in my front yard, waiting for the lunar eclipse to take place.  Everyone else I’d been in contact with reported rain and clouds.  There were clouds, but they were intermittent.  I could only hope for the best, as well as wishing my hubby would come out and join me.  “Too many mosquitoes,” was his claim.

I had no idea where my tripod was.  I’m sure it was probably in one of the storage containers from our move.  All I could do was set my camera on a pallet of cement blocks that were meant for the addition on our house.  The pallet was at slight angle, so I had to prop a towel underneath my camera to keep it level.  The only light I had was from my cell phone.

Once the clouds cleared, it seemed like forever for the eclipse to begin.  In the meantime, I  amused myself with Panda Pop. 

When my eyes got tired of the white light on my cell phone, I rested them back on the moon. This probably went on for a good thirty minutes.  

Right about then, my hubby came out to sit with me.  He was bundled to the max, even though not one mosquito had been reported the whole time I had been sitting there. 

 I’ll admit, I was a bit concerned about any decent pictures.  All I had was a 200mm zoom, and if you know anything about lenses, that’s pretty weak.  On top of that, I was shooting RAW for the first time.  

“Set it to Manual.  See what happens,” messaged my sister on Facebook, earlier.  I didn’t want to admit I had never done that.  When one of the girls in my photography group mentioned the same thing, I thought, “I was doomed.”  Don’t ask why I didn’t say anything at the time.  I really don’t know.

Thank goodness, a writer friend posted a link to an article about taking photos of the eclipse by shooting RAW.  I was so thankful.  It gave me enough time to understand what I needed to do.  It made me laugh because I finally learned what the little black dial and the AV button was for on my camera.

What I couldn’t figure out was where to find the shutter settings.  So, there I was, turning that little black dial on the front of my camera, while holding down the AV button, snapping away at the moon.  Obviously, I felt like I was driving blind.  All of a sudden, I saw them.  Inside the viewfinder.  I felt so stupid.  

Finally, the shadow began to slowly move across the face of the moon.  At the same time, we let our eyes wander to other parts of the sky, trying to make out the constellations.  

We began talking about our own childhood and how our parents would point out the constellations.  “Is that the Little Dipper?” my husband asked. I was certain it wasn't.  How I wished our own grandchildren could have been with us that night. 

I was pretty pleased with my photos, even with a weaker lens.  I learned about using another aspect of my camera.  

Most of all, I loved how the past, the present, and the future, all came together at that time for me.