As if we didn't have enough with the forecast of concerts for three years from now or the premiere of new seasons of series we've already forgotten, now another phenomenon appears for which we must be prepared and rehearsed: the solar eclipse of August 12. A spectacle that will not be repeated in our country until the year 2180 when, predictably, those of us who are now alive will all be dead or, in the worst case, reincarnated as holograms of ourselves, stressed about whether we'll have the chance to see a new eclipse. Of course, no one is obliged to see anything, however unrepeatable it may be, but with the current obsession to prove that you are everywhere and that you don't miss a thing, you not only have to be there at the right time but much earlier, to ensure you'll be in the exact spot when the day that turns into night arrives. This time there's no promoter releasing tickets at a specific time to crash the internet, but there are clouds that play tricks and prevent you from enjoying the prelude to a spectacle that can also include meteorological unforeseen events. And the advantage of all this is that theuniverse has the absolute exclusive, and the changes in the atmosphere, the upper hand regarding the success of the event. Human error is not contemplated here. Which is always a relief. The other advantage is that, if you haven't rehearsed, you also have the right to enjoy the spectacle, if you can get to the place that day, because right now I don't want to imagine the comings and goings of August 12. What has traditionally been a bad day to celebrate your birthday, because in August there's never anyone, can change radically this year. It will be the most crowded birthday you've ever had, especially if you're from the south and invite people to your home. Because, by the way, the poetic justice is that this phenomenon will be best seen in the south of the country. And the further south, the better. Which is a phrase that cannot be said often because the south is used to receiving, yes, but not astronomical phenomena of the magnitude of this eclipse. That is to say, that the privilege falling to the south is a fact almost as unusual as the Moon interposing itself between the Earth and the Sun and us being able to see it.
However, advantages and poetic justice aside, it is interesting to see this eclipse as a symbol, because this phenomenon will leave us in the dark when it has not yet become night. The frivolity of summer will also be extinguished for a few minutes and the atmosphere will suddenly cool down, as happens every time darkness imposes itself brutally on the planet and not precisely for natural causes. That is why we are never prepared or rehearsed. Every time the world is in darkness we don't know how to bring light to it. Every time a psychopath imposes blackness, we wonder where we had the right glasses to see him, why we let him escape. Every time a conflict tears away the land of life, it leaves our gaze full of tears and, at the same time, relief. This time it hasn't happened to us. Although others are always us.
We can know the exact time and place when the Moon will pass in front of the sun and its shadow will darken our day, but we still don't know what shadow is going through the minds of the men who decide to darken our world. What we do know is that, in the same way that the solar eclipse will be repeated and will happen again here when we are no longer here, human evil will persist in this world that is maintained between lighthouses and shipwrecks while we rehearse what it will be like to see an event that we also cannot control.
