Dear lively reader,
The evenings have lengthened by an hour, the blossoms have unfurled (hello, pollen!), Easter is over, and the sap is rising. For those of us in the northern hemisphere there is an extra pep to our steps, even when the winds and rain pelt us. Spring has arrived, banging open the door, shaking the snow off its coat, and swinging the shutters open. Those dusty corners of the rooms are now difficult to ignore.1
Spring brings a sense of potential, lending a feeling that we have more resources to hand when difficulties arise. The extra sunlight and the warmer temperatures encourage us away from our caves and our screens. For there are events to witness outside.
Next Monday, the 8th of April, an arc of the USA will experience a total solar eclipse. When I was in the country recently I noticed eclipse viewing glasses for sale by registers in Pennsylvania, although it will only be total in a slice of the state beside Cleveland (still, by Irish standards, it’s a massive area).
NASA provides the information of where to go if you want to observe the strange phenomenon of a few minutes of total darkness during the day:
Regular readers will know of my interest in cosmological events, and since our sun is experiencing the peak of its eleven-year cycle — its solar maximum — the sun has been spitting out flares and coronal mass ejections like Victorians hawking baccy at spittoons.
Back in August 2018 NASA launched the Parker Solar Probe with a seven-year mission to orbit the sun closer than any other previous spacecraft, and to record and investigate the sun’s activity. In December 2021 the probe flew through the sun’s upper atmosphere (the corona) to sample particles and its magnetic fields. To do this the craft survived temperatures around 1,377 degrees Celsius (2,500 degrees Fahrenheit), along with many other hazards.
During its mission, the probe will be using its seven flybys of Venus to use the planet’s gravity to boost its speed and shrink its orbit to within 6.16 million km (3.83 million miles) of our fiery star.
It’s an incredible feat of engineering that I almost labelled miraculous, but it’s down to science, experiments, advanced materials research, innovation, hard work and calculations by humans aided by computers. Thanks to this probe, solar physicists are learning information every day about the nature of our sun and its cycles.
On top of all of this eclipse excitement, a comet with a 71-year orbit — 12P/Pons-Brooks — is making a rare appearing in our night sky right now. Because of its twin horns, some people have named it the ‘Devil Comet’, which is certainly catchier than its official moniker.
The above photo was taken by Michal Kaluzny of the comet appearing against a weak aurora by the Solheimajokull glacier lagoon in Iceland. Not only is this a stunning picture of the connection between our planet and the cosmos beyond, but when I look at it I think of Kaluzny’s skill, his patience and the incredible photographic equipment that is available to so many people now. You may not be able to go into outer space, but with a bit of practice you can photograph the heavens in spectacular detail.
Currently there are two sunspots — AR3615 and its compadre AR3625 — that are causing solar hijinks. For instance, on 1 April, the duo did not joke around, with a M3.9 flare from AR3625 followed by a M3.4 flare from AR3615 just half an hour later. These sunspots do not appear to be connected, but perhaps there is a hidden link between the two? It’s all speculation at the moment. NOAA (the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration) has predicted a minor geomagnetic storm watch for the 4th of April but mostly around the Artic Circle. There have been a number of bigger storms hitting the Earth recently, but they have caused only minor outages.
Fingers crossed the sun does not decide to set off any fireworks around the eclipse….
Last week I received a late invite to a music gig in Galway city from two friends of mine. I would like to appear worldly and cool to you, but I don’t attend a great deal of live music. I often love the part when the band plays, but I’m not always pleased with the ancillary bits: standing about, being pushed, having drink spilled on me, long queues for drinks with jacked up prices (or not being able to drink because I’m driving, which is often the case). And of course, the desperate state of bathrooms at these places. Gigs in smaller locations (preferably with seats) are a bigger draw for me.
I’m rarely so enamoured of a band that I must attend its live act. I have friends who have dedicated themselves to seeing their favourite band perform repeatedly, but I rarely feel that draw.
When the invite arrived I had recently read a hilarious newsletter by cartoonist Jason Chatfield, about attending a Burlesque show in New York city to support his friend and fellow cartoonist,
. It’s peppered with his photographs and sketches, and evokes how ‘going out’ can be a smorgasbord of pain, frustration and transcendent experience.Yet, my initial reaction was that squeamish ‘I don’t wanna’, especially since I wasn’t terribly familiar with the band. But, I’m also attuned to my resistances and how they can get in the way of having a good time. The COVID era exacerbated that tendency. So I responded with ‘I’ll think it over’ and decided a day in advance that I would go.
The simple fact of physics is that inertia will keep you from doing anything unless you apply some kind of activating energy to get you moving out the door. These days, with constant entertainment available to us, there’s not much you can’t stream, or order. Plus, I’ve noticed a creeping smugness from some overly online people that indicate they never want to interact with people again. This is then constantly validated with comments like, ‘yeah, people are the worst!’
I have a strong introverted streak. I find certain environments overwhelming, especially when it comes to noise and conversations, but… I like people2. It’s stimulating (especially for a writer) to go to new places and immerse yourself in creative spaces. Sure, there’s going to be some discomfort and irritations, but there’s a solid chance that you’ll have fun with your friends.
One way I overcome this reluctance is to buy the ticket and commit. So, that’s what I did.
And that’s how I ended up spending an enjoyable night at the RóisÃn Dubh in Galway city, in the presence of the Irish trad-folk-rock group, Bog Bodies. They are a fine example of how seeing a band play live can be a much richer experience than listening to their recordings. Bog Bodies whipped the crowd into an energised fever, but that’s one thing about an Irish audience: they are up for it. Especially for entertainment with traditional Irish roots.
I was reminded of that tangible pleasure of vibrations thrumming up your feet and resonating in your heart, and the sheer power in the human voice to lift you out of the mundane. The crowd synchs and moves together, elevating the experience into something close to ecstasy.
And yes, there were some people who held their phones up, and others who seemed more interested in being seen at the event and talking to their friends than paying attention to the stage, plus there was at least one broken glass.
I could focus on that, and ruin the night, or keep tuning into the shared jubilation and sheer elation of feeling your blood pumping to a beat, and walk out of the door, happy, into a chilly Galway night, grateful that my friends thought to ask me to attend, and thankful that I’d beaten inertia-apathy again.
For some, dusty corners are never ignored, but I’m rather lax about that sort of thing during winter…
Mostly. There are rotters we’d all prefer to avoid, but we’re rarely stuck with them for long.
Always love reading your writing. It's always written just with such a beautiful tone and I resonate with it and you. 😊