Some in Marysville find eclipse meaning much greater than three minutes of darkness
As one of Columbus' closest big cities with more than three minutes of eclipse totality, Marysville was prepared. The city's chamber of commerce and tourism offices had 21 scheduled events, from cartoons for kids at the Avalon Theater to a golf outing at The Ridge Golf & Gardens.
Then there were the happy hours and theme parties, including Eclipse and Sip at Bokes Creek Winery and Blackout in the Bar at The Maize at Little Darby Creek.
But in a quiet field at Eljer Park, a few blocks away from the commercialism, hundreds gathered on blankets and lawn chairs to ponder the cosmos and maybe life itself.
It took the perfect alignment of the moon and sun to bring together so many, from diverse backgrounds, from so far away.
Some might have wondered if the roughly three minutes of tranquility (about 3:10 p.m. to 3:13 p.m.), could last longer. It was not just the golden hue and hush of wonderment that blanked the park, it was the sense of belonging.
People offered to share their eclipse glasses. Children made new friends. The spirit of unity was unlike that at a sporting event. Gazing at the heavens, instead of a scoreboard, apparently has that effect.
Jacob Elmer, of Philadelphia, described the moon-casting shadow as the ultimate dimmer switch, calling it "transcendental."
"That's what life's all about," he said. "The power of looking at the sun with your own naked eyes — and it's not in the sky."
The beauty of the moment was inspiring, said Annette Cook, who's last attempt at eclipse totality was in 2017 at a North Carolina reservoir amid a threatening storm.
"Geese were flying in circles. The bats came out of the trees. There was a clap of thunder," she recalled. Then a cloud passed in front at the moment of alignment.
This time, the weather was nearly perfect. A beautiful 70-degree day with a light breeze. When totality arrived, the temperature dipped to about 60. The wind stopped. A ring of diamond-like crystals emerged from the sun's edges, visible without annoying carboard glasses.
The show illustrates how big the planet is and how little control we have over it, Cook said. "We have no control over nature and I like it that way," she said, pausing to consider her words. "I kind of like it. Otherwise we'd probably screw it up."
Similar to a fireworks display, hundreds gazed skyward. Instead of explosions, they quietly stared in awe. Cell phones captured the moment. Parents hoped their kids would remember.
"It looked like a black hole that was about to suck all the planets into it," said Liam Elmer, Jacob's 10-year-old son.
"Thanks for sharing that lovely thought," his father said.
dnarciso@dispatch.com
This article originally appeared on The Columbus Dispatch: Marysville ponders deeper eclipse meaning - no control over nature
