There are other ways to look at eclipses. This was the UK in 1999.
The Shadow of the Moon
“Oh, what the hell” we said, and did the thing
Without protection. Risky undertaking.
With our bare eyes we watched the sun’s eclipse
Reflected in the surface of the pond.
Wet-blanket clouds had shackled its full power;
It lay in the water, Achilles’ shield,
Dull, sunken silver. Then a dozen orfe –
Pond-swallows – gurgitated centre-stage
Chasing a drift of midges, shattering
The picture beyond mere representation –
Matisse – Cézanne – and all the broken light
Shimmered into a glorious, soundless noise.
I turned to you to share the glee, and saw
The first shadow of pain crossing your face.
You hid it well. No sooner there than gone.
The cloud lifted. The sun was back again.
The orfe retreated into the dark place
Under the lilies. Something had ended.
Something had begun.
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