Daniel Kahneman's Death and Eclipse

On Monday, night came twice. Both times, the crocuses closed their petals, as they always do when night falls. I don’t know if they closed before or after the ring appeared in the darkened, daytime sky. So they may not have seen the flash. They undoubtedly felt the hush that quieted my chatty toddler grandson - a hush that filled us with awe. Awe caught its breath on the red glow just before it BURST into a brilliance of all brilliances.