Philly celebrates a day of eclipse-o-mania despite the clouds

About 3:20 p.m., it was left to 7-year-old Gonzalo Octavian to tidily summarize the cosmic phenomena that he and fellow Philadelphians and millions of others witnessed on Monday afternoon.

Looking through the cartoonish protective glasses that he had placed ever so carefully over his regular glasses — this was no time for eye damage — as a subtle twilight settled over the region, he declared, “It’s a banana moon.”

More properly, it was a banana-shaped carving of the sun executed by the encroaching new moon, but let’s credit Gonzalo for a judicious use of poetic license.

For three hours, a form of eclipse-o-mania took over the Philadelphia region, an undeclared holiday, as people looked skyward with their protective eyewear, almost looking as though they expected to greet interplanetary visitors, three days after the region was startled by an earthquake.

For an afternoon, the heavens took precedence over the mundane Monday business of earth.

It wasn’t the whole banana around here — the sun was obscured only about 90% — but that was 15% better than the partial eclipse of August 2017, and this time around it wasn’t as cloudy in town, although clouds were a shade or two thicker to the west of the city.

At 2:08 p.m., as the first wave of totality was about to darken the spectacular beaches of Mazatlan, on the Pacific coast of Mexico, where it was late morning, the first hints of a shadow crossing the sun reached Philadelphia. They elicited oohs and ahhs on the steps of the Franklin Institute, where hundreds had gathered for an eclipse party.

The spectators leaned their heads back, keeping their eyewear in place, as Derrick Pitts, longtime director of the science museum’s planetarium and party impresario, advised them to live in the moment and let NASA scientists and other professionals worry about taking the images.

The gathering at the institute was one of several throughout the region, from Independence Mall to Valley Forge National Historic Park to Fairmount Park to the Riverwinds in West Deptford, where people brought lawn chairs, their dogs, and snacks and sat on black benches.

» READ MORE: So you looked at the eclipse without safety glasses. What should you do now?

The skies became cloud-congested in some areas as the show was approaching a peak, at one point eliciting a smattering of Philly-style boos on the Franklin Institute steps.

But most people appeared to make the best of it, including 8-year-old Sadie Moore, who got a day off from school and copped an eclipse-themed chocolate and orange doughnut, courtesy of Federal Donuts, and savored some important family bonding time.

Philly gave parents the option of picking up kids early, while some other districts adjusted dismissal times. Some schools decided that the eclipse would be a learning opportunity for kids such as Gonzalo Octavian, who attends the Antonia Pantoja Charter School in North Philadelphia.

Although it was utterly unrelated to the eclipse, Friday’s earthquake, which shook the entire region, evidently had left a residue of fear among some children at the school.

“I was scared of everything going pitch black, and the earthquake didn’t help,” said 9-year-old Gabriela Espinal.

With her mom’s assurance that “everything will be fine,” Espinal and her fourth-grade classmates were put at ease after spending the day learning about the eclipse.

“I’m kind of excited now, but I have to take care of my eyes because I don’t want to go blind,” Espinal said. The kids watched the eclipse from the school’s front yard.

The skies were by no means perfectly clear over Philly — the viewing was much better at the Jersey Shore — and shortly before the peak moment, at least one group decided to pack up a telescope and leave the Franklin Institute steps.

Marcela Knipper was not among those abandoning the party.

She stuck it out, along with her husband, son, and mother, who was visiting from Honduras, and their patience was rewarded.

At 3:50 p.m., as the moon peeled away, a crescent of the sun appeared over 20th and Parkway.

This, she said, was no day for losing hope.

”That’s the way life works. You have to be in the present moment and be open to what the present moment offers,” she said marveling at the partially covered sun one final moment.

By the way, you can donate your eclipse glasses, even if used. Among the groups accepting them are Astronomers Without Borders, which helps distribute them to Africa, Asia, and South America for eclipse viewing.

Or you can keep them for Philly’s next shot at a total solar eclipse on May 1, 2079.

Save the date.

Staff writers Melanie Burney, Kristen A. Graham, Diane Mastrull, and Nick Vadala contributed to this article.