Little does the sun know the moon has designs on it, creeping across the sky day by day, night by night, month by month, incrementally, circling and edging toward the afternoon not so far off, on April 8, 2024, when our planet’s dry, dusty, all-natural, free-range satellite will slide right over the solar disk, blotting it out completely.
In my neck of the woods in the Adirondacks, just over the McKenzie Range from Lake Placid, the moon will make night of day for a few minutes.
Most of us humans, informed by astronomers what is about to come, will watch not with fear, as the populace did in H. Rider Haggard’s epic 19th century novel “King Solomon’s Mines,” but with astonishment and wonder. But how will wild things react, especially…