If you haven’t been living under a rock, you’ve heard the hype and almost hysteric news and warnings concerning the solar eclipse. Occurring on April 8 with an observation window from 3:08-3:19 p.m., there’s a lot of excitement for something we already understand. It’s the regional rarity that makes the eclipse standout.
Ohio’s last celestial darkening was in 1806 and it won’t happen in our state again till 2099. About 30 million people live within the eclipse’s “path of totality” (peak effect), and visitors flocking to visit small rural towns is probable. I’m hopeful folks will respect other’s property while enjoying the event.
The world experiences two to five solar eclipses each year, but they’re only visible in certain areas. Over the last 150 years in the U.S., at least some portion of our country has had the sky go dark. It happened in 1869, 1878, 1889, 1900, 1918, 1923, 1925, 1930, 1932, 1945, 1954, 1959, 1963, 1970 and 1979. Of all of these, only the 1918 eclipse traversed the entire country. The next to be visible in North America is expected on Aug. 23, 2044 and will be most visible from norther California to Texas.
What intrigues me about any solar eclipse is how it must have felt a couple of hundred years ago, when you had no idea one was coming. You’re out working in the garden or fields, maneuvering a boat on one of the Great Lakes or traveling by foot or by horse to visit a neighbor when suddenly the sky turns to night. A lack of understanding and possible superstitious or religious beliefs may have turned an inspiring event into moments of confusion or terror.
Today, we know what to expect, and I’m certain that many will travel to get as close to one of the epicenters — the central pathway experiencing the longest darkness. Still, there are those that have no inclination that this event is on the way and the sudden change is sure to startle them.
Domestic and wild animals can’t prepare or understand what will be happening during the eclipse. How will they react?
Wildlife
The first thing to understand is that all animals react to the approach of nightfall. Since none of them wear a wristwatch, it’s likely that they will interpret the abrupt change as the coming of night. While we can choose to travel to experience other eclipse events, for animals —this is a once in a lifetime occurrence.
Because of the relative infrequency of solar eclipses, few studies have ever been done on their effect on wildlife or domestic animals. While you’re enjoying this phenomenon, you may want to keep an eye on the behavior of the mammals and birds. These observations may be as interesting as the afternoon’s darkening.
Birds are likely to see the fading light as dusk and begin returning to their roosting areas and serenading us with their evening songs. As this impromptu night suddenly begins returning to day, these same birds may sing their morning chorus. It’s believed this disorienting time-lapse is short-lived and they quickly return to their normal behavior.
During a total solar eclipse in June 2001 involving Africa and Madagascar, astronomer Paul Murdin was at the Mana Pools National Park in Zimbabwe to observe wildlife reactions to the event. He saw doves and other songbirds act out bedtime routines, briefly going silent before singing when the sun reappeared.
“Egrets, oxpeckers, ibis, trumpeter hornbill and geese stopped feeding and set off for roosts,” he wrote, noting that only some returned to feed after the eclipse. “A pod of hippos dispersed into the water during totality, as they do at dusk, but then showed nervousness for the rest of the afternoon and took a day to get back to normal,” Murdin observed.
While we’re lacking hippos in Ohio, I’d expect that the birds may act very similarly. In fact, there’s also anecdotal information that livestock, accustomed to returning to the barn at dark, will begin filing to their nightly shelter only to be confused by the sudden reappearance of the sun.
It’s also been noticed that bees often return to their hives as the eclipse unfolds and when it gets light out in a seemingly too short of period, scout bees leave the hive to investigate. Some hives will resume foraging for pollen while others close shop for the day.
Crickets are likely to begin their nighttime chirping and chorus frogs and their spring peeper cousins may begin an early rendition of their nighttime serenade. Bats may suddenly appear to take advantage of night-flying insects fooled into taking flight.
Pets
What about your pets? They usually take their cues from their owners and few will likely notice the changes. What may concern them more is any unusually large crowds, loud parties and possible exploding fireworks that they may be forced to endure during a solar party.
If it’s just you and your pets, and you show no fear, it’s likely that Rover and Felix will ignore the darkness. Zoo animals often react to an eclipse as if there was a darkening of an approaching thunderstorm. They simply head to shelter to wait it out.
As for me, I’m hoping that April 8 arrives with good, clear weather. I plan to turn off our dusk-to-dawn lights, pull out my lawn chair and sit in the yard near the vernal pools in my woodlot.
While taking a glance at the eclipse through protective glasses, I’m going to stay tuned to the wildlife on our property. I want to hear the changes that an unexpected nightfall can bring. Maybe some groggy frogs babbling and clicking katydids will wake up to welcome back the sun. I also plan to visit the beehives to see how they interpret the experience.
“We should always endeavor to wonder at the permanent thing, not at the mere exception. We should be startled by the sun, and not by the eclipse. We should wonder less at the earthquake, and wonder more at the earth.”
— Gilbert K. Chesterton
