The eclipse, and a full report on the animals

Eclipse viewers in Cape Girardeau were lucky. The clouds stayed away, and the view of totality, when it got pretty doggone dark, was unobstructed. That wasn't the case everywhere in the prime viewing path. What a disappointment it must have been, particularly for everyone who traveled some distance to see the eclipse.

We -- my wife and I, our older son from Boston and a friend from here in Cape Girardeau -- set up our viewing station in our driveway. This consisted of four lawn chairs, two umbrellas, lots of viewing devices and a sun hat for my wife. All of us are fair-skinned and susceptible to even small doses of direct sunlight. But there we were, like thousands of others, baking in the noonday sun like mad dogs.

Speaking of animals, Missy Kitty didn't seem to pay much attention to the eclipse. She was spooked by the man from the pest-control company who sprays quarterly for bugs and showed up Monday morning. This man is not Missy Kitty's best friend.

In addition, Missy Kitty has a new beau: a gorgeous gray/silver tiger-striped tom with gorgeous blue eyes. I call him Frank, in honor of Old Blue Eyes.

Frank and Missy Kitty seem to like each other's company. If one is sleeping at one end of the front porch, the other will likely be slumbering several feet away at the other end. There have been occasions, particularly late at night, when Frank serenades Missy Kitty. He could use a few lessons in vocalizing.

Meanwhile, we had hoped our son would get a glimpse of the deer that populate our surroundings. Sure enough, a fawn came into the backyard Monday after the eclipse. A while later, the fawn and its mother went across the street toward the hedge-protected area where the deer tend to hang out.

My wife had also seen, the day before, the resident neighborhood groundhog. It lumbered out of view before she could call the animal to anyone else's attention.

Finally, hummingbirds have taken up temporary residence in our backyard. They are, we presume, fueling up for the trip south that is just a few weeks off. They particularly like the three big pots of lush lantana blossoms on the back porch, which makes for a good view through the French doors from our dining room. So far the hummers have been fairly civil toward one another, without much territorial dive-bombing.

We've spotted some mighty ugly molting cardinals in the last week or so. The sooner they get their new, shiny suits of fire-engine red, the better.

If any of these animals were affected by the midday shadow of the eclipse, they didn't show it. While it did get quiet during the peak of the eclipse, there still were critters out and about. Perhaps the most noticeable effect of the eclipse was the absence of traffic noise. Everything mechanical seemed to halt, even if it was only briefly.

There is already good news about the next eclipse, in 2024, whose path will give us another view of totality, which lasted not quite two minutes here. In the next show visible from Cape Girardeau, there will be total darkness for over four minutes. Good. Ninety seconds just isn't long enough to fully take in the full effect of an eclipse.

Large crowds of visitors to our area seemed to be on their best behavior, and I'm not aware of any particular problems. I wish I could say the same for the rest of the planet, especially when individuals intent on mayhem are abroad.

But let's not dwell on that. Let's think about the next eclipse and the opportunities it will provide, now that we are experienced eclipse viewers and have this week's event under our belts.

Where will you be in 2024?

Joe Sullivan is the retired editor of the Southeast Missourian.