There were people out with their crystals, eyes closed, meditating through the eclipse!
After Easter Island, we thought an annular at Pyramid Lake, Nevada, would be easy. It turned out to be a different kind of experience altogether. The viewing site was on an Indian reservation, and the organisers — a group called Symbiosis — had been given permission “to pay homage to the sun.” They were very organised, even building a driveway through the desert from the highway to the campsite of tents and RVs. We stayed in a motel in the nearest town and made daily visits.
We were, shall we say, overdressed. Safari pants with many pockets, long-sleeved collared polo shirts to keep from burning, sun hats, sunglasses, hiking boots — and tripods and telescopes. We were the only people there recording the annular eclipse with proper equipment. Everyone else was at a giant music festival: multiple stages, every genre, beautiful people, all slim and bronzed, dressed in anything colourful and minimalist. Fire-twirlers in the evening, hula hoops strung with lights, young girls dressed as gossamer butterflies flitting about, yoga, transcendental meditation. Even the food trucks were different — no burgers or hot dogs, just vegetarian salads, fried rice, fresh juices. Amazingly healthy.
There were people out with their crystals, eyes closed, meditating through the eclipse! Law enforcement patrolled the lake on horseback, but everyone was so relaxed. It is probably the closest two straitjackets like us will ever get to a Californian, free-living life.
We noticed the contrast again, sharply, that evening — back in a burger joint for dinner, where most people were rather the opposite of trim. Two worlds, one ring of fire.