I think to myself how fortunate we are to observe this, and how lucky we are to live on a planet that allows such an almost spiritual alignment. As before in 1991, I struggle to hold back the upwelling of tears. It is truly SO beautiful. I'm in a daze as I slowly move back to the telescope, the Sun apparently now locked permanently in eclipse, and time almost seeming to stop. But we know better.
Totality here lasts just over three minutes.
This is always a time of reflection and perhaps of some depression. I too want the eclipse to start again, as my sons so eloquently noted in 1991. Cheryl expresses the same feeling today. Cheryl suggests instead a luncheon on that deserted beach so we secure the equipment, turn off the motor drive and head for the cove. We picnic with the sea eagles and marine Iguanas and some crabs, and watch as the violent surf carves caverns of time out of the fossil coral cliffs surrounding us.