You could say that I chickened out a bit last night, and in fact I’m slightly disappointed with myself. Like so many other people, I really wanted to watch the solar eclipse, so at about half five yesterday evening I set off for Greenwich Park. The problem was, when I got there, I found it busier than I had ever seen it – it was absolutely crammed, and no place to observe the cosmic ballet. That and the fact my powerchair battery was starting to get low meant I opted to head to the bus stop to return home. By the time I got back to base though, the eclipse was already in mid-flow. While there is a patch of grass not far from my flat I could have watched it from, the fact that I didn’t have any protective eyewear meant I chose to cut my losses, get inside and check what was happening online. I told myself that it was ultimately just the moon coming between the Earth and the Sun, and it wouldn’t have been the first time I’d seen an eclipse as I was lucky enough to watch the one in 1999 in Bavaria. But the fact that I chickened out last night, and it won’t happen again for another sixty years, nonetheless means I’m fairly gutted.