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When the veil of cloud briefly parted above Science II, the gathering crowd of onlookers was ready.

“Glasses up!” shouted Mark Stephens, an instructional support specialist with the Physics Department, which organized the event in the courtyard. “The moon’s taking a bite!”

The parting of the clouds only happened a handful of times, as the shadow overtook the sun on April 8. But that didn’t dim the enthusiasm of the ������ý campus, which turned out en masse to turn spectacled faces to the increasingly gloomy sky. A store of free eclipse glasses ran out.

Hours before the astronomical event began, Midas Leung was stationed outside the University Union, aligning a pair of devices. One was a telescope borrowed from the Physics Club, the other his personal camera with a long lens. Both were outfitted with black polymer filters to reduce the amount of light to safe levels.

“I’m excited but saddened by the fact that it’s cloudy,” said the junior, an applied physics major.

Sophomore Cheryl Attard and senior Adella Cho found an early spot on the Quad — a good thing, too, since the campus green space soon became clogged with hopeful viewers. Cho, a sociology and accounting major, remembered the 2017 experience and was curious about how this one would unfold.

“We’ve been a bit disappointed,” admitted Attard, a political science major, as she glanced up at the thickening clouds.

Outside Science II

Solar eclipses are pretty neat, noted first-year physics major Ian Battaglia, a member of the campus’ Astronomy Club who stopped by the gathering outside Science II.

“You have the sun and the Earth, and the moon is sandwiched in the middle. At its greatest extent, the moon completely covers the sun,” he explained. “There are interesting physical ways that it affects the Earth.”

For one, the temperature drops, and the wind often dies down. Perhaps ironically, clouds often form once the temperature drops near the eclipse’s peak, Stephens noted.

According to NASA, the phenomenon also allows scientists to study the innermost part of the sun’s corona, as well as the sun’s impact on Earth’s ionosphere. The fact that we have eclipses at all is an amazing coincidence: the sun is 400 times larger than the moon, but it’s also around 400 times further away, Stephens noted.

At the Physics gathering, Stephens set up a device known as a sun-spotter. Light comes in an aperture, reflecting off several mirrors until it’s projected onto a piece of paper inside. The device is used to chart sun spots; their shifting position can be used to figure out the speed of the sun’s rotation, he explained.

Except, unfortunately, there was no sun to spot — as graduate assistant Mabrur Ahmed discovered as he set up an 18-inch telescope. A doctoral student in physics, Ahmed doesn’t usually dabble with celestial bodies; “My expertise is in the small stuff,” he explained.

“Did you get it, Mabrur?” Stephens asked after one brief spot of light.

“I had it, then I lost it,” Ahmed sighed.

On the Quad

Not only students but also faculty and staff turned out for ������ý’s eclipse-watching extravaganza.

Dominick Chiuchiolo happened to attend a campus tour with his son, a prospective ������ý student. The Long Island photographer set up cameras with filters and long lenses in the grassy amphitheater, located on the other side of the Harpur College plinth. His ideal shot: the slivered sun, with the students, the Pegasus and the Library Tower in the background, he said.

“I always have my gear with me,” he said. “This is pretty cool, right?”

As the sky clouded and darkened, the Quad transformed into a mini-eclipse festival. A quartet of African drummers accompanied Associate Professor of Music and Africana Studies James Salinas Burns in front of the Fine Arts Building, providing a lively soundtrack. Other students hit volleyballs and chatted with friends as the clouds rolled in; one even took the opportunity to climb a tree.

������ý wasn’t in the path of totality; at its peak, a shadow covered 97% of the sun. Still, the temperature dropped, and twilight fell, giving the campus a 6 p.m. vibe.

A cheer rose from the Quad throng as the sun briefly broke free from the clouds, all but a bright crescent occulted. Then, the veil closed again and thickened.

At 3:23 p.m., the height of the eclipse, another cheer went up. A lone vulture wheeled high overhead, as staffers in the nearby Couper Administration Building lined the windows, gazing toward the University Union — where the dimming sun should have appeared.

“I just wanted to see it,” said first-year student Mia Colangelo, an English and philosophy, politics and law major.