What we’ve all been calling “a mild winter” ’round here actually hewed pretty close to the averages — about the right amount of snow, temps staying in the historical ranges, and so on. Regardless, today we can put that season behind us.
It’s the vernal equinox. Officially now, at 10:06pm CDT, spring has sprung.
Mind you, this is the traditional astronomical marker. We’re told that “meteorological spring” began a few weeks ago.
Whichever you observe, the seasonal page has turned.
In related news, astronomically speaking, we’re now inside three weeks until the last total solar eclipse for 20 years. Deb and I will finish putting our preps in order this weekend, likely with a supplemental run on Saturday the 30th.
Maybe you’ve heard the theory that this eclipse will trigger seismic activity along the New Madrid Fault. That’s based on the catastrophic quakes of December 16th, 1811 having been preceded by a similar total solar eclipse on September 17th of that year.
This time, New Madrid, Missouri is in the path of totality, which reportedly it wasn’t in 1811. The Mountain is roughly 200 miles WSW of the 1811 epicenter, technically in the same seismic zone.
For what it’s worth, our Home is situated on a graben, defined as “an elongated block of the earth’s crust lying between two faults and displaced downward relative to the blocks on either side.” We live less than five miles north of the Clabber Creek Fault.
So, are Deb and I prepping with a temblor in mind?
No.
Right now we’re thinking about the pressure that an influx of eclipse tourists could exert on local and regional resources. If there’s anything else we’re considering, it’s what could happen during the eclipse, having nothing specifically to do with what’s unfolding in the sky.
Here’s what I mean. One of our favorite YouTubers refers to cell phones as “weapons of mass distraction.” He correctly points out that these electronic devices cripple situational awareness, and on a massive scale.
In 2017, fully half of the US population watched the total solar eclipse in one way or another. Given the relentless and inescapable hype, we can predict that percentage will be higher this time. Especially within the path of totality, the experience will be immersive — tens of millions of Americans will devote their undivided attention to the astronomical event.
What better time could there be for bad actors to perpetrate bad acts? A huge swath of the countryside will be littered with soft targets and large crowds, ripe for crime and terrorism. And I wouldn’t blame anyone for suggesting that the worst of bad actors — our own government — might somehow exploit the mass distraction.
All of this may be interesting, and it’s certainly worth noting. None of it, however, affects how Deb and I prepare.
Finally, I’m well aware that lots of folks are, as we used to say, “too cool for school.” They simply can’t be bothered. To them, a total solar eclipse is no big deal, just a bunch of hype, and prepping around it is idiotic.
I’ve never been that cool, and I can’t imagine being that complacent. See, we don’t get to pick and choose what’s worth preparing for — we assess the world around us and, without so much as a hint of hysteria, we get ready.
Do that.
I woke up this morning with whatever it is that’s kept Deb out of work for two days — cough, sore throat, body aches. The show must go on, however, so once we had the dogs taken care of, I loaded a week’s trash into the truck and took it to the transfer station. While I was out, I stopped by Harps to pick up a few things for Deb.
I did make time to get outside later this morning and this afternoon. The only work I did was rebuilding part of our stacks of cordwood, which either were toppled by a deer or collapsed due to poor construction. I definitely got enough Vitamin D from the sunshine to boost both my immune system and my mood.
But the best part of the day was a chance encounter at the Harps deli counter. I overheard a local woman chatting with the clerk about the decline of Memphis, where she’d spent the last couple of months. Because this is Ozarkansas, I did the proper thing — I joined the conversation.
What followed was yet another reminder of why, as tempting as it is for me to hole-up on The Mountain and not come down, it’s essential and so very rewarding to get out into this community and meet our neighbors. The brief time I spent with this woman, a like-minded 44-year-old Navy vet, was big fun. As we parted, I shook her hand and introduced myself.
“Well, sir, you just met Lisa Marie from Memphis, Tennessee,” she grinned.
I can’t imagine ever living anywhere else. I love it here.
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.
#WiseUp #LibertyOrDeath #Ungovernable
#LetsGoBrandon #FJB