June 5. Voting. Transit of Venus. Hamburger. Pomegranate eggplant for Carol. Rajas Quesadilla for me.

Stopped to vote at extraordinarily quiet polling place after yoga--got home ravenous-satisfied all hunger with an excellent meal of left-over hamburger with wilted arugula, caramelized onions and cauliflower on half a pretzel roll and a big glass of iced coffee (with a few smidgens of ice cream).

Perhaps just as predictable, but more exciting than the election was the imminent Transit of Venus.  Venus, slightly smaller than the Earth would be passing between the earth and the sun from 3:30 until sunset.  This will not occur again for over a century, so it's our last chance to catch a glimpse. Not visible to the naked eye (given the brightness of the sun and all),   can only be seen through a telescope with filter or very dark welder's glass.  Unlike last month's solar eclipse, this transit has no effect on the amount of sun beaming down, there is no discernible shift in the atmosphere, i.e. you have to know it's happening to know to look for it.   The astronomers were going to be out in force at Griffith Observatory and UCLA, but Carol was coming over after school, and I was fairly certain she wouldn't want to head out.  Would I miss it?  Waiting for Carol, I walked to Ocean Front Walk, assuring myself that in that mass of pulsing humanity, I was bound to find at least one telescope or darkened piece of welder's glass.  And praise be!  At the very end of the block, my imagined telescope stood pointed towards the sun with its transiting Venus.  Steve, a regular at the drum circle for

Steve and Sequois with telescope pointed towards sun

past decade, explained that he had brought his telescope from his  Palisades home to view the transit from one of his favorite spots.  When I told him this was my street, he was a bit concerned that I might have been miffed by the years of drumming.  Perhaps his well-filtered telescope was a conciliatory gesture. In any case, either due to my softness for large crowds of dancing fools or my ever-increasing deafness, the drum circle on my block has been more a source of marvel than distress.  With a telescope on the corner, I brought down any neighbor who might have stepped out-doors--Sid and Judy with two grandsons, Lloyd and Lola, Andrew and later Carol and Joanie (who'd called for some last minute voter consultations.  Here's a reflection on paper that approximates (without the sharp contrast of yellow sun and black Venus shadow what we saw.

Venus beginning its transit (tiny spots are dust on telescope)

Back at the house, once the sun had set, we pretty much by-passed dinner.  Carol had the eggplant in pomegranate molasses sauce with a cup of tea, while I made myself another quesadilla with rajas con crema.  We didn't listen to one word of election coverage. despite our dutiful attendance at the polls.