The Dark Side Comes for The Moon

The nearly full moon rose like an old friend as I walked my dog last night. When my mom died in October many years ago, it rose in beauty, giving me familiar comfort and ushering me into a new phase of life.

I’ve loved watching the moon since I was a child riding with my grandpa on his tractor. The way it traversed the sky and changed phases delighted me. In fact, I thought the Moon was called the Move and would turn my grampa’s face to see it and say, “Look at the Move!”

I was so curious about what it was made of and if anything alive could be up there. I even had the privilege of watching the Moon landing with Gramps.

If we didn’t have the Moon there’ d be no eclipses, no moon dance, no moon shadow, no moon light sonata, no blue moon, no Dark Side of the Moon.

We’d see weaker tides with their ebb and flow. Marine animals wouldn’t be able to navigate or spawn. Corals wouldn’t reproduce. And what would I decorate my house with if there was no moon?

First Men in the Moon by HG Wells has been a favorite novel of mine, despite having a dearth of female characters. Two English gentlemen find themselves launched to the Moon thanks to a substance that shields their rudimentary travel sphere from gravity. Although implausible, I found this a clever twist but what unfolded on the Moon caught my imagination most strongly because it contains a shred of truth. The two men, one a businessman and one a scientist, encounter both gold and lifeforms. While the scientist wanted to learn more, the businessman schemed exploitation.

If you read reviews of First Men in the Moon the naysayers point out all the ways it’s unrealistic. But Wells got one thing right: Greed is coming for the Moon.

While scientists wring their hands at lost opportunity to study the Moon, the greedy are firing up for a moon-mining race. Yes, companies are salivating at a chance to harvest. The Moon, having once been part of earth, doesn’t have anything the Earth doesn’t but in some cases, the concentration of the materials might make them easier to mine them. As HG Wells predicted, the Moon does have water to provide for all the new exploits and it also has a rare isotope of helium, Helium-3 also designated 3He. This might be useful in providing fusion power, which so far, hasn’t been successfully achieved. After all, we’ve got to power all our AI some way. Why not shoot for the Moon so to speak?  Don’t worry. US companies are already planning to suck off the government to make this happen.

And if we don’t do it, Russia and China will. China’s been to the dark side recently so we in the US are not going to let “safety be the enemy of progress.”

I rue the day when I look up at the Moon and instead of imagining moon-rabbits, handsome men, or werewolves, I see avaricious people making money. What can I do about it? I think I will go on an internet diet and restrict my pointless searches. I’ll try to ignore Alexa  and Siri for several hours a day, even though Alexa has been calling out to me lately in a somewhat creepy way.  Although I hate to admit that Republicans ever had a good idea, my grandson says that since they banned cellphones at school, he’s been reading books again. Maybe if I disengage once a day for 4 hours, I will finally get the next novel done. When it comes to energy gobbling AI powered by elusive fusion, you know what they say: don’t obey in advance.

Eclipse ( & life) in the Rear View Mirror

I’m really lucky that my kids took me to Missouri and into the center of the path of the total solar eclipse. I sometimes get the hint that they aren’t sure I’ve had enough adventures yet, having been a lowly professor who was dedicated to my job. Until this time. I was sure that eclipse viewing  close to totality was good enough. I was wrong.

We went camping at the Sam A Baker State Park. It’s not close to any major city and the crush of people they expected didn’t show up in force, although the campgrounds were full. We camped and although I’d prefer a luxury hotel, it was worth it. The park was pretty and well kept. The spring ephemerals were in bloom.

We attended a lecture about the eclipse given by a retired astronomy professor. We learned that one special thing about this eclipse is that the moon was very close to the Earth (perigee) and the sun far away (apogee). This made it possible for the moon to totally cover the sun. (An annular eclipse doesn’t meet this requirement). I also had no idea that the moon has a titled elliptical orbit, as does the earth, which is why an eclipse occurs in so many varied places. This also explains why they are more likely to occur when the Earth is titled towards the sun, which means they are rare in winter. Here’s a map of upcoming eclipses. He stressed that we needed to wear eclipse glasses to prevent us from going blind, but at totality, we could take them off.  

He also told us to look for Baily’s Beads and talked a little about solar ejections (coronal mass ejections.) The later has the potential to disrupt telecommunications and navigation devices. This is called a Carrington Event –one melted telegraph lines and sparked railroad tracks during the US Civil War. The world is anticipating another one, with a scary scenario. Using their best predictive powers, scientists are working to predict the next super storm.

We had no cell service and hadn’t gotten a weather update in days. Starlink traveled overhead but we couldn’t get a connection, only a reminder not to subject ourselves to the whims of billionaires. People asked the wise professor the inevitable. “What’s the weather going to be like?” He echoed what a man selling firewood had predicted. “It’s going to be perfectly clear.”

Poking fun at conspiracy theories, we donned our tinfoil hats as we waited for the eclipse—totality was to occur about 2 pm.

Sometimes, it’s hard to muster a sense of awe, but with cool breeze and eerie shadows, the eclipse caught us in its snare.

Moon-shadow basking.

We weren’t prepared for the weird and surreal moment of totality. Without a sunset, darkness fell as if a switch was thrown. We dropped our glasses, under the spell of the darkened sun with its dazzling corona. Had I been alone, I might have cried. Stars came out. Crows cawed. A frog chirped. Humans yelled at the raw moment of cosmic wonder. Within 4 minutes, the sun peeked out and the light came back in a rush.

A black circle with a light in the middle

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(photo on location by Paul Van Zante)

We headed for home, avoiding St. Louis and its traffic. Back roads put us behind an hour, not bad considering all-nighters experienced by some.

During the long car ride, I sat there thankful for the experience.  I was grateful to the professor and his insights. It made me proud to have been a professor. Without understanding of an eclipse, it would have been a frightening experience.  It’s good to be reminded that we really are at the mercy of the universe.  Science has helped make nature appear less capricious, but every bit as magnificent.