Collective ecstasy at the eclipse: no glasses, eyes on the sun

Solar ecstasy without glasses: the fever that caught people off guard

What does an eclipse cost? More than it seems. Judging by the reactions recorded in the heat of the phenomenon, some experienced it as an ecstasy and others compared it to a Marian apparition. The image of the crowd gathered in busy spots, eyes fixed on the sun until totality, leaves a trail of uncomfortable questions: where was the sanity? And where were the glasses?

Awe without protection
With warnings repeated ad nauseam, the scene repeats itself: people staring directly at the star, retinas on the line. Some are left entranced, and some even joke that the moment is worth anything, pain included. The cost of a retinal burn is no laughing matter; in the worst case, it is irreversible.

The apocalypse in five acts
There is no shortage of people who see the eclipse as a sign. A widely shared list places the blackout as the fifth link in a chain of misfortunes: pandemic, volcano, DANA storm, invaders and, now, the sun. From there it is only a step to proclaiming that Spain's prime minister is the antichrist, and many take it with a half-smile. The collection of calamities works as a barometer of discontent: when reality outdoes fiction, even the heavens end up on the list of grievances.

Herd, paradoxes and responsibility
Among the crowd overflowing the viewpoints, some point out the contradiction: so much care about not burning their eyes, and so little about other precautions that affect everyone. The herd simile, with its hint of contempt, circulates widely. But the scene also has its gentle side: the shared emotion, the child who will witness something that will not repeat for decades, the photo worth more than a thousand words.

Bottom line: the eclipse passed and we are still here. With the same eyesight, or without it, and with the certainty that next time many will repeat the same scene. Wonder rules; prudence usually arrives late.