The above image comes to us courtesy of NASA’s Earth Observatory website. The images they send me via my email subscription never disappoint. For a full caption, and to learn which landscape is featured, visit Earth Observatory.
Yesterday I saw not one, but a half-dozen total solar eclipses. Such was the odd privilege of being stuck inside an office cubicle for most of the day, relying on internet coverage. From Oregon to South Carolina, again and again, I watched the sun disappear, become a coronal ring around the moon, and then burst forth in an audience-delighting “diamond ring” glow.
More than just astronomy, this event became both ritual and communion. Below is a touching video put together by The Washington Post which provides a good balance of eclipse footage and human exultation.
Each time another crowd witnessed the eclipse, I found myself especially taken with the audible reactions. Animals can’t possibly sleep during a total eclipse. They must sit alert, waiting tensely for the light to return so the humans will stop squealing and shouting for joy.
And people? They struggle for words. The oral history of the 2017 Total Solar Eclipse, from seasoned reporters to little kids, begins and ends with the word “Wow!”
To sum it up, as I watched the reactions again and again yesterday, they seemed a marvelous mingling of two things: 1) feeling like an ecstatic kid; 2) feeling something deep and profound, mystical or spiritual even. Feeling like the sun and moon at once?
Below is a good 360 view. Press play. Then click and drag upward to see the sun as a pillar of light which recedes into a tight ring surrounded by temporary night. Thanks to The Salt Lake Tribune for putting this one together. Old-school newspapers are giving me the best highlight footage to share. Awesome!
The merits of my bawdy first impression of Moonrise stand reinforced by sampling another sensual lunar poem by Mr. Lawrence: Moon New-Risen. In that poem, Lawrence envisions the feminine moon making out with a masculine night sky. His fixation seems akin to a boy gazing at a nudie magazine. So why am I reading and blogging about his naughty poetry on Lit for Space? I blame Captain Kirk.
“They say the sea is cold, but the sea contains / the hottest blood of all…”
Captain Kirk quotes this bit of D.H. Lawrence’s poem Whales Weep Not! during Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home. It’s a beautiful line and beautifully placed in the film. Kirk recites it to a lovely woman, though we should note she is also a heroic scientist to whom Kirk is indebted. Together they gaze at a pair of rescued humpback whales swimming through velvety lighting aboard a starship.
Kirk recites only the first line of “Whales Weep Not!” Wisely so. The rest of the poem ranges from highly sensual to downright erotic. It contains, among other things, a detailed depiction of whale genitalia fulfilling its biological function. Unabashedly, the poem goes all the way.
What does this have to do with Moonrise?
Without Star Trek IV’s well-placed D.H. Lawrence reference, I may never have happened upon Moonrise. I found it buried in a thick anthology of D.H. Lawrence’s Complete Poems. Thank you public libraries and interlibrary loan.
Humor me and read Moonrise again, especially if—like me—you could only see sex the first time you read it. Moonrise, like Whales Weep Not! is about much more than sex. Though it is a poem which employs sexuality powerfully and without apology. By a third reading, I caught hold of its climactic message.
The rising moon’s gorgeousness catapults both poet and reader toward a powerful notion. Within human passion, sparked by cosmic beauty, there is some quality which may hope to outlast even the literal moon’s existence. What a wonderfully defiant sentiment for a species utterly bound by time and space.
Questions for Comment
In what ways do you, or do you not, find the moon poetic? What elements of the cosmos do you find sensual, and why?