Beneath the cloudy Belfast sky I watch for signs of the eclipse. People gathered around outside hoping for the slightest glimpse. I begin to wonder if it wasn’t rain that caused the light to fade that way; the summers here have always been unpredictable — all four seasons in a day. But no, I can really see it now! The shadows falling over everyone below, while the light remains above somehow. Through the cloudy grey, a shattered glow. The streetlights re-illuminate the scene. I watch from my dining table, sipping wine eating dinner, gazing out at the marina; eager spotters on the piazza check the time. And all at once it starts to brighten up! The lights go off, and people go about their day. But I saw unity in that momentary dusk; a gold corona of our own emerging from the grey.
It's odd how words can visually rhyme, like somehow and glow, but not actually rhyme. If we pronounced it as "some-ho", that might create a very different meaning!