Eclipsed

The solar eclipse of March 20th left us standing in a hybrid light. As if Space had closed in, to become more of itself – vast, absolute, the only act on stage; a conjuror steadily veiling the comfort of the apparent, better to reveal an alternative reality.

Moving with a twilight gait, the morning’s pulse beat towards pause. But this was no soft, twilight promise of leave-taking. For a moment, the illusion was stark, leaving us dislocated from what held us firm. A chilly pall plummeted, suspended on a weight of absence, and we were left enclosed in a box of mirrors; at the magician’s mercy – the spotlight that defined our world removed.

There was a dimming; a clammy, intimate drapery of air against my neck, seeping to the roots of my hair. Greyness stood silent and close – and yet, the rising morning still held high its bold, blue sky. Even with almost ninety per cent coverage here in South West England, the sun cast a steadfast light. When only a sliver of sun escaped the moon’s shadow, the gleam of its sword-edge – still assertive – sliced the day, and fitted it into an empty compartment of distant display.

We strained the solar eclipse through a colander for safe viewing of this cosmic event....

We strained the solar eclipse through a colander for safe viewing of this cosmic event….

In that moment, the immense power of the sun – juxtaposed with the dead, cold shadow of its absence – made standing on this planet a sudden, deep-down awareness of utter dependence.

The birds – our solid allies during this dark turn of the cards – drained from the sky, seeking footholds. A pair of jackdaws, clattering on the tiles like a heave of surprise, landed on our roof. Shuffling comfort-near, they closed in on their own curiosity. Bills tilted skyward, they watched the eclipse, their eyes filled with perplexity.

Jackdaws watching solar eclipse

Earlier that morning, I had watched the jackdaws rise with the sun from a tree etched in sleep against the sky. Then, in pairs, they had spread around our street – roof by roof, chimney by chimney. They had been busy, vocal – prospecting old nest sites. We too had been busy; human and bird routines in motion, our hours prepared ahead of us to be filled and mapped by a compass of activity. And, above us, on a scale beyond full comprehension, a shadow was on its way; the moon travelling, unstoppable, into this moment of strange, drifting rootedness.

For me, the jackdaws’ reaction said it all. Their whole demeanour was like an astonished blink at a trick pulled out of the hat. They gazed skyward, watched each other, I watched them.

Jackdaws still puzzling as the moon's shadow slips away, and the sky lightens...

Jackdaws still puzzling as the moon’s shadow slips away, and the sky lightens…

And, together, we witnessed the unfathomable unpacked from a seemingly finite space. The familiar transformed into something more itself – and disturbingly revealed as utterly alterable.

And then, the moment passed. The waxing sun nudged most of the birds from their consternation – and they were flung skyward again; a whirl of beginning the day, once more.

But, for a while, the jackdaws remained – puzzling the sky’s strange riddle across the silver of their eye.

More than meets the eye:

Jackdaws never cease to fascinate me. Here are a couple of links to articles outlining research into how Jackdaws use their striking silver eyes, and their gaze, to communicate – and to entwine their understanding and behaviour with ours….

What the Jackdaw Saw – study shows birds communicate with their eyes (University of Exeter website).

Human Eyes Speak Volumes to Birds (Science Blogs).

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