Locomotoring

“A total lunar eclipse will redden the Moon in the early morning hours of March 3, 2026.” – NASA (link)

I am not naive, I didn’t think the scientists mean hex code #ff0000 red. I am open to anything that even glinted towards the red hue. Besides, the month of March had been a quiet in our courtyard. What we had overhead were some beautiful but distant galaxies like the Cigar, Bode’s and the magnificent Markarian’s Chain. But there were no nebulas we could aim for. So when the total lunar eclipse rolled around, I thought I would give moon watching a try. Next total lunar eclipse visible from California won’t be before December 31, 2028.

It turns out that if your astrophotography software is set up for capturing nebulas, it isn’t set up for taking photos of moon – not a deep sky object. The plan to try and do a last minute effort was soon abandoned once we realized that it wasn’t just about turning a few knobs in the software. I started out by taking handheld photos of the moon with our zoom lens.

The goal for the rest of the night was to wake up at 3 am and watch the eclipse for an hour – beginning, middle and the end. Skyguide app confirmed that I could do so from the comfort of the courtyard. The Clearoutside weather app predicted 100% low cloud. I noted the forecast for cloud, I chose optimism, an ism I am prone to, when it comes to sky watching. I skipped my nightly dose of magnesium and set a vibrating alarm on my watch. I kept my binoculars and camera handy along with red headlamp, and warm layers.

What happened subsequently that full moon night was rather anti-climactic.

Firstly, I dozed fitfully, dreaming a very vivid dream. For the longest time, I was struggling to find my camera. And then when I found it, the blood moon was more a bloody sky. Remember the old folklores when people thought that during eclipse a celestial monster devoured the moon. I dreamt of a moonless sky, dyed red with the blood of the dead moon.

I woke up 15 minutes into the vibrating alarm. I was discombobulated for another 15. By the time I got my brain semi-functional, the moon was in partial eclipse. Neither with naked eyes, nor with my binoculars did I observe any reddishness. I told myself that even if I had missed the beginning of this lunar theater, I was there to see the end. I was about to pat my own back for ignoring the Clearoutside prediction when a very thick layer of cloud, like a white curtain, settled in. And that was early curtains for the theater too. I waited impatiently for another 15 minutes and then crawled back in bed.

The only red I saw that night was in my dream! What gives?