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The most beautiful moment of the eclipse is not when the moon shines clothed in full red colours over the frozen lake at which I stand. The most beautiful and special happens when the light slowly, almost imperceptibly, starts showing itself again. At first very careful, at the edges, then ever changing and increasing and decreasing in intensity. Every brief moment is different. It compels you to adapt your focus, blink your eyes, tilt your head; you make small movements to keep following the changes. A continuous adaptation from inside to outside, from outside to inside.

The people that have also come out on this cold morning don’t notice that. They pay attention to the pictures they want to take, the moment that needs to be captured. It requires constant adaptation of their camera’s and tripods, accompanied by explanations and conversation. That way they miss what I feel to be so special.

When I get back home, feeling cold through and through and hugging my heating, I see that I could have followed the proces through my window. But then I would have missed this special feeling. And I would have missed the clear light of Venus in my eyes when I walked back.

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