Strange Lights and Crescent Shadows

We had a partial solar eclipse here yesterday.  For me, the most interesting thing about it was watching the play of light and shadows as the  moon moved to block the sun. As the light began to dim, it seemed to take on an eerie quality; not exactly like  a storm  brewing, or the sun setting, but there seemed to be a glow,  with heightened shadows and  an edge to the colors. I took this photo of a Gulf  fritillary on the deck about ten minutes before the peak. The butterfly had been flitting about back and forth  across the deck seemingly in a confused state, before finally settling on a spot to land.
I think it may have been a spot that Victoria had used  when she  couldn't or wouldn't make it all the way off the deck to relieve herself. Maybe she does it because she knows butterflies love urine for the minerals it provides, but I doubt  Victoria is that altruistic. Anyway,   you can see how  deep the  butterfly's color is in the fading light.

I had decided to  view the eclipse from the front yard, using  the leaves on one of the young oak trees as a filter. I went out  about twenty minutes before the eclipse began to  find  what I thought  might be the best spot, and took a pic  so that I could compare it to  pics  taken  during the  eclipse itself.

What struck me as quite strange is that there was no noise.  Normally   there are  many sounds: birds calling,  crows cawing,  dogs barking, the neighbor's  rooster crowing, cars driving by,  traffic noise from the highway a few blocks away. But it was eerily quiet.Every once in a while there would be a slight breeze that  moved one  of the fallen leaves but it was  almost imperceptible. I had read about  how  the gaps in the leaves act as pinholes during an eclipse, casting an image of the eclipse in each gap in the form of crescent shadows. 

There were crescent shadows all over the ground- it was quite delightful!

It was all over in just a  couple of minutes. The moon moved away from the sun,  the bright sunlight returned, and the rooster began crowing again.  He was probably trying to herd  the  hens back outside while trying to explain to them that he'd made a mistake and it hadn't really been time to roost after all. I'm sure the hens were in shock.  Not  because of the eclipse, but because roosters, much like males of other species, rarely admit to being wrong.