Same here (Ct. also)
It was light.
Got darker.
Got light again.
Event over.
Watched it for about 30 seconds while walking the dogs. Said to my wife, “That looks really interesting. I think we should go back inside and talk about it.”
Sailboat
Stupid clouds.
I was at a friend’s and we had pretty much perfect viewing so we popped out for a few minutes a couple of times to see various stages, but it was well below zero and we couldn’t take the bitter cold for long.
It was a beautiful rust moon, with a silver crescent sliver creeping over the surface of the moon. Magnifique! And even though it was colder than brass nipples, the sky was completely clear… I just wish I had Gorsnak’s foresight and brought my bloody camera!
You need to channel your inner mystic. 
(CT River Valley, here)
I don’t have a tripod, and I’m still learning the settings and stuff on my camera but I got these from my bedroom window!
This is why you set the exposure to manual, and then just shoot a huge range of exposures. One of them is bound to work! I have a couple just before totality with the highlights so blown out that there’s a big glow around the right side of the moon. 
Saw it, made a point to. Made me feel very… I don’t know… Connected to things. There was someone else in my appartment’s parking lot at the time, and I wanted to go over and point out the moon to him, but in the end, I kept it to myself, like an important little secret, jealously guarded.
The Mrs. and our youngest and I watched it for about a half hour, all from the vantage point of our hot tub out on the deck, complete with binoculars. It was about -3 Fahrenheit, so it made an ideal viewing platform, with the water at 103! Lake Michigan’s waves were breaking with the noise a giant slushie makes when it has 2 foot waves in it, in the background.
We started about 10 minutes before totality, and hung around to bask in the orange glow!
I would have liked to watch the whole thing, but it was frickin’ freezing outside.
I don’t know if anyone else caught this, but one of the cable channels here (I think it was WE) was showing *The Seventh Sign * during the eclipse…a movie about the coming of the apocalypse, in which one of the signs is the moon turning blood red.
I had a front-row seat, and I was so happy all evening, I was jumping up and down inside my head. I love that sort of thing, and it’s made even more delicious by the fact that the moon here in Decatur really IS brighter than it used to be. The conspiracy theorists keep saying suspiciously, "Do you notice, the moon is brighter? That’s because it’s getting closer! :eek: "
The moon, when I was a girl growing up in Chicago in the 60s, was always a tarnished silver blob, even at full moon, and frankly it wasn’t very bright. I was always puzzled at the way characters in books would say things like, “Well, it’s a full moon, so we’ll have plenty of light for our smuggling trip”, because the full moon of my acquaintance gave about as much useful light as a 7 watt nightlight.
So fast forward to the mid-90s, in Decatur, when 30 years after the passage of the Clean Air Act, Decatur Memorial Hospital, a few blocks away from where I live, tore down its antiquated coal-fired generating plant and put in a parking lot. Suddenly all that pollution over the entire city was gone, and the moon really WAS brighter, so bright that it hurt your eyes to look at it on clear winter nights.
So I had a front-row seat last night as a painfully bright winter moon turned red as blood! :eek:
…Well, okay, it wasn’t scarlet or crimson, but it was definitely the orangeish-brown of dried blood. I can see how primitive cultures would freak, seeing that happen to the moon.
The eclipse started just about the time choir practice was getting out, and as I went to my car, I looked up, and there was just a fingernail sliver missing from the moon. W00t! I went back inside and was, like, “Hey, y’all, there’s an ECLIPSE starting outside!” and they were all polite, like, “oh, that’s nice” and they went back to talking about Marilyn’s sister who was in the hospital. Well, pooh to them, if they’d rather talk about female troubles than go outside and look at an ECLIPSE!
I went home and dragged both the Better Half and La Principessa out onto the back porch, where there was a spectacular closeup view of the moon through the branches. “See? See? ECLIPSE!” They were all polite, like, “oh, that’s nice.” La P did at least ask intelligently, “So…the sun is behind us, right?” And I said yeah. And she nodded and went back inside to Buffy: Chaos Bleeds. O person of no soul, who would rather play a video game than watch an ECLIPSE!
I kept tabs on the ECLIPSE during oboe practice up in the bedroom, and just about the time I was done, it was reaching totality, so I dragged everybody outside again to see how it really was the color of blood…well, sort of. And they were all polite, like, “Oh, that’s nice.”
Anyway, it was very kewl.
Awe. That’s the word. Definite awe-inspiring, meaning “to inspire awe”.
Don’t get many chances in life to have awe inspired. The space shuttle launching, and tornado damage, and eclipses, is about all there is, for me.
P.S. It was frickin’ freezing outside here, too, but I did not let that stop me. If ya wanna see some awe, ya gotta bundle up.
We had a nice view through the fir trees. Very pretty. Also chilly, so we didn’t watch for as long as we usually do.
Cold and clear in Dearborn. We watched at intervals.
It was very cold, I was on the phone with a friend, took a glimpse when it was 3/4 red, planned to check a little later & never did.
BUT I was up for the blue-moon-eclipse of last August about 4-6 am- that was cool (watching stellar events while listening to Coast to Coast AM is all sorts of surreal).
After going out to dinner with friends last night, we were waiting for the bus on Columbus Avenue, looked up over the Museum of Natural History, and there it was, in all of its reddish glory. We watched for a while until the M11 bus came.
I don’t think we get that channel here.
(Northwest Hills - Litchfield Co.)
Was totally clear by us - I had a nice clear view right out our sliding doors without needing to get out of my chair. Maybe 3-4 times I stepped out onto the deck after it got up into the bare branches of a maple in our yard.
Made a point of mentioning it to our kids, both of whom were walking home from work right at the time of totality. I remember 15 years ago or so, bundling the kids up to see one when they were tiny. Way cool. You can really imagine how strongly this would have affective primative societies…
oooh- you’re gettin’ snow tomorrow!