(Full Moon over Eftalou)
The
media has been full of news of the biggest super moon in ages. I get
a little confused about all the phenomena in the sky. For example,
you have a blue moon when there are two full moons in one calendar
month. Or a red moon, although I have forgotten when this occurs. And
there are different lunar eclipses. And sun eclipses, and star
showers. It's one big paradise of events in the heavens.
As
Lesvos is having so many days with sun shine, it offers a perfect
possibility to see all those natural events. No teasing clouds
stopping the show. Except on the day (November 14) that that huge
moon was expected. I was quite busy that day, so it suited me that a
thick layer of cotton-like moisture was filling the sky: even a super
deluxe moon could not shine through it. I also had no idea what time
that moon would appear above the mountains. I didn't lay down on a
comfortable stretcher, like I do when the stars shoot through the
sky. But I was wrong: friends watching from the castle of Molyvos did
see this bright orange ball appearing and when I finally decided to
take a look, all I saw was a blue shiny light from behind the clouds.
It
wasn't sensationally big. And there was a negative effect: the night
the moon was supposed to rise like an opera star in the sky,
temperatures quickly dropped. So it's really so long to a beautiful
summer. We have to wait for another weather event: the Alcionides
Days in January, which will bring back some summer warmth.
So
the moon tricked me. Just like the time when I decided to organize a
romantic dinner in her dreamlike blue full beams. It was in the
middle of the summer and there was no cloud to be seen. The table was
set in the middle of a field and my guests took their seats, giggling
because of the strange light. But soon enough you couldn't even find
a saltshaker and the diners were slowly disappearing in darkness. The
Moonlight was fading fast, and a nasty black shadow drove across the
moon: a lunar eclipse!
The
sun also knows how to fool you. Once on a bright sunny day I was
driving through the mountains, towards Tsonia. The view through my
sun glasses got more and more obscured. So time for a thorough
cleaning session, and then another one, but it didn't help: even
without glasses the view disappeared slowly. I panicked a bit,
thinking that I would be blind any minute! The sky in the east took
on an ominous darkness, the mountains disappeared in dark purple
shadows and I saw less and less. Then a friend phoned me and asked:
“Are you outside? Are you seeing it?”. I stared at my phone in
disbelief and, totally upset, screamed back: “I'm practically
blind”. “Great”, my friend answered, “enjoy the eclipse of
the sun!” It did not become totally dark that afternoon, but all
the birds, normally so loud on the island, kept their beaks shut. And
I parked along the road, waiting for the comforting sunshine to come
back.
Years
ago whole tribes panicked when the sun or the moon performed these
tricks, and many prediction for the end of the world coincided with
days when darkness fell too early. But sometimes those eclipses did
some good. In the time of Sappho, the Lydian empire stretched as far
as the coasts opposite Lesvos (nowadays Turkey). In her poems she
praised the Lydian soldiers, stout fighters who for years had been at
war with the Medes. On a sunny day (on May 28, 585 BC) when the two
armies faced each other, what happened to me happened to them: the
light dimmed slowly and the battle field disappeared slowly into
darkness. Although there was a scientist (Thales) who predicted the
eclipse, the darkness was thought to be a punishment of the gods:
terrified, swords and maces were thrown down and soon peace was
signed.
So ignorance can also be good. Imagine if all
fighting parties in the Middle East were to drop their rifles and
UZI's because Allah makes the sun disappear. I then would immediately
become a muslim to thank Allah for this humane
gesture.
Now
half a moon, upside down, laughs in the sky, but on December 14 she
will again take on the guise of a super moon, although a bit smaller
than the one of November. This show however might spoil the fun of
star gazers, who will also be ready on December 13 & 14 for the
super star show of the Geminids, the biggest of the year with 120
meteors a minute shooting through the sky.
But
next year the events in heaven will be poor, with only one
extraordinary show: a partial lunar eclipse on February 11. I hope I
will not forget that date, so that I won't take fright and drop all
my ladles and pans, but instead will think of times when a sun or
lunar eclipse could bring peace on earth.
(with
thanks to Mary Staples)
©
Smitaki 2016
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