The awe of turning skyward together
Riley Robinson/Staff
I almost couldn’t believe my eyes. The light began to fade, muted and amber. The air went cold. The buzz of the crowd seemed to wane with the sun. I worked as quietly and quickly as I could, trying to make frames that captured the joy in our collective anticipation. Thousands of people donned goofy plastic glasses and turned their eyes toward the sun. Totality was coming.
Many of my favorite assignments of 2024 have had these quiet, magical moments, among people totally focused in wonder on the natural world. In Mexico City, on a boat in the canals of Xochimilco, the sun rose behind a puffing volcano and lit up the occasional fisherman. No one aboard with me spoke, except to murmur a rare “wow.” Months later, in a forest in New Hampshire, early-morning bird-watchers turned their binoculars to the tree line, elbows lifted like wings, themselves forming a silent, waiting flock. How special it is to marvel among strangers.
That day in April, as the moon crossed between the sun and Earth, causing a total solar eclipse, the quiet erupted into hooting and hollering. It felt as if the universe had let out a joyful, lupine howl. I shot frame after frame after frame, aiming my camera at the sky, then the crowd, then the sky again. I checked my camera screen to see whether I had really captured what I’d witnessed. Only then, for a few more seconds, did I put my cameras down and become part of the crowd – eyes up skyward, jaw dropped in awe, a moment of all-in amazement.
The other photos that I loved in 2024 are below.