This morning, my astronomy professor sent my class an email informing us about the lunar eclipse estimated to occur after the sun was to set.
He made sure to mention that an event like this is not going to happen again until January 2018. I thought such an uncommon opportunity would be cool to check out, plus, I would be able to put real-life application into action.
At about Mindful Meditation10:40 PM, my roommate and I walked outside of our building to witness the couple-of-times-in-our-lifetime event. I was feeling excited; the anticipation of seeing something on a universal scale that I had recently learned about in class was fairly high. The two of us stood in the middle of the parking lot, our necks bent so we could take in a fuller view of the vast sky. Unfortunately, my hopes of seeing the eclipse were left unfulfilled, as the Philadelphia skies had not cleared of clouds that had been lingering for most of the day.
“I had no control over the forces of nature that decided whether or not to allow me to see the lunar eclipse.”
Initially, I was a bit disappointed — a potentially beautiful sight was right above my head and I was missing it. On all nights of the year, why does tonight have to be the cloudiest? Why do the weather conditions have to be nasty tonight instead of tomorrow night, or the night after that? If I could, I would trade a full week of clear skies in order to have a perfect night tonight!
Alas, neither I nor my roommate have special ties to Mother Nature. I was missing the lunar eclipse, and there was nothing I could do to change my situation.
I continued to gaze at the sky with a feigned hope that a blood moon would reveal itself to me. In searching for a sight I knew, deep down, I wasn’t going to see, I got a good look at what the sky above me had to offer. The clouds were full and fluffy; Their centers were a dull orange, but the color grew brighter as it reached the edges of the clouds. Behind the randomly strewn, thick chunks of clouds lay the sky, a light shade of indigo that had a noticeably purple hue. The clouds, constantly manipulated by the wind, created a dusty effect that made the sky seem, truthfully, a touch dirty. No stars were to be seen, but the city sky looked unique compared to any other time I had seen it.
Although I was not taking in the sight of a lunar eclipse, I was taking in the sight of a beautiful sky. In my time living in the city, I have noticed the particular colors and characteristics that the Philadelphia sky possesses, and I realize that no two nights ever look quite the same. Tonight was no exception, and I experienced yet another captivating variation the sky has to offer.
I had no control over the forces of nature that decided whether or not to allow me to see the lunar eclipse. I did, however, embrace the situation I was dealt with, and in a state of mindfulness, I was able to appreciate the sky that took shape before me. I forgot about the what could be or what should be, and focused instead on what purely was. As a result, I was reminded to be aware of the present beauty of nature. After taking a last good look at the sky, I walked back into my apartment for the night with another mental image of the ever-changing Philadelphia sky in my head.