Egypt: Total Solar Eclipse

From the sleeping bag, the sound of footsteps on the earth beyond the tent, the murmur of voices … The minutes pass and the sound of the generator is distinct, the engines of the coaches that keep arriving … It's early, only 7.30, you can't stay still.. maybe it's the damp seeping into the bones from the mat on the ground, maybe it's the thought that only a few hours remain, maybe it's the wish that all goes well …

There is a dim light under the field tent, the reflection of the blue and green satin gives it a totally out-of-context air.. more like a Parisian place of turn-of-the-century light-heartedness than a Berber tent with green mint tea boiling on the wood fire.

In front, French, English, Germans and Italians already queuing for breakfast. Behind, outside the tent, very low clouds, a November-fog effect on the Po plain …

Bodiless legs walk, they stop in front of tripods holding mysteries hidden in wadding. Coaches pass by, within a few dozen metres they become wheels alone, then vanish on the horizon into nothing.

The fog numbs the scene, the frenzy of the preparations speeds up the movements … a contrast that can't be explained, opposites compared.

The temperature rises, the humidity drops, the sun climbs, movement explodes.

Beside us telescopes, binoculars, spyglasses, telephoto lenses, “hats” for cameras, filters for lenses, homemade, fanciful, intriguing devices.

Everywhere, truly everywhere, tripods.

While waiting for first contact, photographers, astronomy enthusiasts … travellers, move from one tripod to another like puppets on the stage of a puppet theatre. Torches, jackets, jumpers are all on the chairs, it's warm, people wander around in short sleeves savouring the strength of the sun on their skin, in their bones. The comparing, discussing and exchanging of ideas, techniques, times and apertures goes on. Time passes with the amused study of what the Japanese, the Americans … have set up: the clash of two worlds, the Japanese man in a tie, the American with megalomaniac equipment.

First contact

The moon eats the sun, leaves the black of a missing bite, the growing banquet of a mid-morning snack. Funny. What surprises you isn't seen through the telephoto lens, it's felt in the air. Slowly the light polarises, without a filter, without photographic artifice. Blue high in the sky, red on the horizon. A 360° sunset. A temperature falling steadily and persistently. An eclipse wind rising and cooling the skin that smells of sun. Dense air charged with energy, palpable, graspable. Vibrating emotions, growing agitation, confused frenzy.

Spannung

Cold, a darkness that isn't black. Flying shadows run across the ground. Venus lights up, Baily's beads appear, the diamond ring bursts forth ….

Second contact Totality

The drum roll stops and the silence falls silent. 3'53” Someone shouts chromosphere. They aren't minutes, they are a breath, a whisper of a moment.

It's already over, here comes the opposite diamond ring …

It's already over ………..

A year of waiting, a morning of preparations, 3'53” of not breathing. Mind in confusion, no memory of the agreed times and apertures, trembling hands and clumsy framing. Look through the camera or with the naked eye?

Only one answer. Feel with your eyes, listen with your skin …. Record everything with your mind, capture it with your heart and let yourself be carried away.

I didn't believe it … my throat pounds, swallowing doesn't help.

A very tight embrace. I feel the heart mirrored in mine, the beat echoing in mine, the breath racing with mine. No words, transmission of thoughts. Crossing glances. A tear of emotion falls silently.

by Stefania Rabitti