
My dad using the pinhole camera.
Today, around 6:30 pm (PT), there was an annular solar eclipse in my part of California. You can read the science behind the "ring of fire" just about anywhere. (Here's something quick from Huffington Post Science if you can't stand to wait.) What I'd rather talk about here is the fun you can have with eclipses because I -- at 23-years-old -- just found out about that myself.
My dad and I were outside with the usual eclipse essentials: a homemade pinhole camera and five pairs of polarized sunglasses stacked together like a modern art sculpture. As a result, we could see either a tiny version of the eclipse or a blurry one.
My dad and I were outside with the usual eclipse essentials: a homemade pinhole camera and five pairs of polarized sunglasses stacked together like a modern art sculpture. As a result, we could see either a tiny version of the eclipse or a blurry one.

Tree shadows on our neighbor's house.
Then, as I was heading inside to assemble the rest of our family, I glimpsed our tree's shadows and wondered out loud, "Do they always look like that?"
On the pavement, on fences, and neighbor's garages, the leaves of our front yard foliage had transformed into thousands upon thousands of eclipses, scattered about like hole punch refuse on New Year's Eve. (At least that's what my family used for confetti.)
On the pavement, on fences, and neighbor's garages, the leaves of our front yard foliage had transformed into thousands upon thousands of eclipses, scattered about like hole punch refuse on New Year's Eve. (At least that's what my family used for confetti.)
While taking pictures of this, I saw the trees weren't alone. The tips of my hair looked as though they bent back on themselves, my hands looked like claws. This realization prompted my dad and I to begin a giddy session of posing and bending. My dad's hands lost digits while my wrists all but disappeared.
It seems silly now -- it actually felt pretty silly at the time -- but it was a whole new way for us to engage in what we thought was typical front yard astronomy. And it wasn't just new for us. We shared our shadow play with our neighbors, meeting some of them for the first time in the process. That specific part of our eclipse experience is what inspired me to share it with you.
So, welcome to the neighborhood and happy eclipsing!
So, welcome to the neighborhood and happy eclipsing!