The first natural phenomena over the last two weeks contributed to a welcome focus away from the over-arching, troubling news howling across the nation and around the world. How good to be present for the Eclipse of 2017. Marge got on the Amtrak and went to her brother's in Charleston, SC, to see the full monte. The clouds parted just enough at the right moment to capture the photo she sent...

Here in PA, Aidan made his box viewer and he sent the results of our somewhat clouded 75%, Mid-Atlantic experience...

Sandy sent her colander view from St. Louis...

Note circles a little flat on one side on her photo of the exit end of the eclipse.

My pinhole apparatus wasn't working in the clouded conditions; then, as the eclipse was ending, I finally thought to take a picture with my trusty iPhone and after several tries, while not-looking, got this...

The phenomena caused awe-filled thinking. Not just how vast the ever-changing Universe is and how dwarfed we are but how we really are a part of it. How millions of us who are made of those elemental molecules of stardust, packed the ether with our eclipse images, broadcast in every possible way the eclipse's entire path, and how scientists measured, studied, and observed it all with every sort of tool now available. How we, every last one of us, counts; have living, breathing bodies with minds to wonder and know at least a part of it. What a gift for us to love and care for.

The fascinating, natural phenomena that traversed the skies over North America, snatched everyone's attention away from grim, grimmer and grimmest news. People who'd watched it happen began folding up their chairs, going home, resuming their lives. Two or three more days went by.

Then, the other shoe dropped.

Hurricane Harvey roared onto the scene, sat upon Texas, lashed everything to pieces, and rained more in a few days than the whole state of Texas gets in a year. Even now, after landfall a whole week ago, Harvey marches inland causing still more floods and destruction. People are again the news. They are helping save each other from terrible peril, to endure terrible losses. Out in the Atlantic, Irma is blowing 120 miles per hour as her path heads toward a Central or North American landfall.

Our beautiful Planet Earth wants our help, too.

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Sometimes, I just need a good walk. Often, Aidan comes, too.

We saw a deer again.

The deer bounded away.

Aidan got this photo of a butterfly enjoying Wendy's Butterfly Bush.

One day, Marge and I picked up Pat and we went to see the Andrew Wyeth paintings at Brandywine Art Museum. We took a break from the satisfying art works and had our lunch on a bench along Brandywine Creek.

Pat and Marge.

Wendy sent along a picture of Toby demonstrating his appreciation for the sun.