(I’m also setting a record for the most delayed sliver moon update: I’m talking about the new moon of 30 March, more than a lunar month ago. The subsequent new moon last Monday was a total bust for sliver moons.)
Can't believe I saw the early-morning sliver moon of 28 March. I just happened to be awake, and looking out the window, at precisely 6:36 that morning—the one minute it was visible before the scudding, silhouetted clouds enveloped it. Two minutes later—complete overcast. But for that moment it was Dawn © Mother Nature.
I wouldn’t have had a chance to view the 30-hour sliver moon of 31 March if it hadn’t been so close to the vernal equinox. Knew exactly where and when to look, and good thing, too: though it had been sunny (and butt cold) all day, the inevitable raft of stratus clouds was closing fast, and I just got a glimpse (and a photo!) of it ahead of the cloud front. This time, though, the solid overcast didn’t settle in for at least ten minutes; the western sky was obliterated almost at once, but a few lonely stars continued peering through the murk.
Plate 1. SLIVER MOOOooOooOOON!
Wow—a 30-hour sliver moon successfully viewed from Cleveland. Never thunk it possible. That must be close to the theoretical limit for sliveriness at this latitude and climate.
After that, Tuesday’s two-day sliver moon should have been ridiculously easy to spot. And again, a brilliant sunny day with the threat of oncoming clouds from the west around sunset. Luckily, the sky remained visible for a while after dark; I was playing board games that evening and didn’t think to go look until around 8:30. A classic Cheshire Cat sliver moon, its lower horn starting to disappear behind filaments of cumulus, greeted me in the parking lot.
That’s three sliver moons within a span of five days, and each sighting occurred in a window of visibility scant minutes wide. Sometimes I’m just walking around lucky.