No Price-tag

Peals of carefree laughter pierce the afternoon. Exuberant dogs yip and yap. Parklands bloom with picnic blankets, drinks and refreshing snacks… chocolate biscuits melt in the midday heat. Sweethearts pose for selfies against a backdrop of flowering camellias and climbing roses. Floral fragrances envelope them. Raucous Rainbow Lorikeets sweep on by... screeching. Bees buzz lazily.

Intermittently, curious townsfolk sneak quick peeks in the direction of the taboo, glowing orb overhead. It’s now partially blacked out. Clearly more delicious than it looks… a bite has been taken out of it

Unobtrusively, a band of nondescript people confidently intermingle amongst the locals. Official looking dark polo shirts lend them credibility. Brightly coloured ‘freebies’ are generously handed out. A carnival spirit pervades the park. Parents and offspring alike, swarm like flies on Vegemite sandwiches. Soon, everyone is the pleased possessor of their first ever set of specialty glasses. Everyone Nobody looks silly… they’re all proudly wearing a pair.

Almost imperceptibly, warm light dims… palor washes across the day. Birds perch. Bees quieten. A gradual calm, stillness inches across the scene. Youngsters — along with their frolicking dogs — cease their scampering. Conversation drops. All Amost every person pauses. The sky darkens as the sun bashfully hides her face behind her moon mask.

Necks crane, heads tip back, gazes lock skywards. Like automatons, almost simultaneously, hands raise to faces and carefully position the flimsy, bizarre eyewear, so fortuitously provided. A sparkle of silver encircles the moon.

Then… Aha! At last… what they’ve all been anticipating, waiting to see, or rather, not see. There goes the sun! Not a sign of her… just a darkened moon in her place.

Tiny tongues of flame lick outwards. Mercury and Venus come out to play. Glasses are hastily removed in the gloom, in the absence of the sun’s brilliance.

Time and the moon continue to inch along their course. Gradually, the sun peeps out over the tableau below it. The costume style glasses settle back on noses. A few people keenly follow the solar eclipse to its conclusion but most grow weary of it all.

Finally, the moon has moved on. The park has almost emptied when the sun fully reappears, bathed in blinding brilliance .

Later that night — in many houses across the city — tired, but contented souls ready themselves for a good night’s rest. Headaches stab the front of their heads… too much fun and excitement in the park. Eyes blur… most likely from the dry air. Wavy lines wander across their door and window frames… it’s definitely bed-time! Their beds and chests of drawers appear to be shrinking. How crazy is that? Ink splotches obscure the centre of rooms. Quilt covers, curtains and wall paper no longer colour co-ordinate in quite the same way as they did just this morning, before…

Before they went to the park.

Before they stared at the sun…

Wearing free, eclipse sunglasses…

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I’ve never trusted eclipse sunglasses for safe viewing of Solar Eclipses! Call me paranoid but I’d rather play it safe and avoid solar retinopathy.

Written for L.C. Schäfer's (Spring), “Here comes the sun” challenge below: