For those in know, or the truly committed to finding a bluebird sky for the total solar eclipse, Newport’s Prouty Beach and Campground, abutting Lake Memphremagog, was the place to be.
Just before 1 p.m., cars streamed up Interstate 91 and off Exit 27 and headed towards the park. People stashed their cars in lots and along the roadways wherever they could find a space and continued to the beach on foot.
Already set up with tripods and long telescopic lenses were members of the Greater Boston Night Photographers club. There was Dave Young, 61, owner of a photography studio and gallery in Rockport, Massachusetts, who arrived at the edge of the lake around 9 a.m. with his serious hobbyist club mates: Carlos Robredo, 60, from Beverly, and Andy Gatchell, 59, from Reading.
Their goals were to catch the different phases of the eclipse, and one of the sun’s corona, with a bonus for Baily’s Beads.
Originally planning to head for Burlington, the group pivoted eastward late Sunday, said another member, Kevin Tang, 34, of Malden. “We were checking the forecast and, er, praying,” he said.
Up the hillside slightly were others on a more personal mission. Chad Albrecht, 55, of Queensbury, New York, had taken the week off work to see the eclipse 12 years ago. “I was prepared to drive to Missouri, to the panhandle,” he said, but ended up in Newport.
Separately, Madeline Fazio, 66, of Moriches, on Long Island, also got in her car alone Monday morning to find the best viewing place. “This has been on my bucket list since I was like 7 years old,” she said.
Sitting between them, Nicholas St. Fleur, a science journalist who had driven up from Washington, D.C., for his second chance to see a total solar eclipse, knew what he was in for.
He covered the last eclipse in 2017 for the New York Times in Carbondale, Illinois, but determined Prouty Beach was where he needed to be. “It’s going to be amazing; it’s going to be life-changing,” he told those around him. A large cloud covered the eclipse for most of totality the last time around, but there were two clear seconds.
“In those two seconds, I saw majesty,” St. Fleur said. “It’s that beautiful.”
