Mr kirkwood (Eclipsed By Hype, Letters, August 17) wasn't committing some kind of blasphemous comment by admitting his disappointment of the event.

I too encountered the eclipse from outside an office block. The media, in weeks of pre-eclipse coverage, assured us: darkness would fall, cars would turn their headlights on, the whole world would come to a ghostly standstill - and it simply didn't. We were promised effects never seen before. Instead, those of us who witnessed a partial eclipse settled for something resembling a brewing rainstorm.

Rita Leaman (Letters, August 20) was not in Cornwall and found the spectacle a sensual, most memorable experience. In the idyllic setting of Sutton Bank, I too may have noticed the lack of insects and birdsong, felt the eerie stillness as temperatures dropped and the sky became a dull haze. Instead, I stood on my office lawn, wishing I had brought my jacket out, desperately resisting the temptation to crane my neck towards the cloud-covered sun (was I nave to expect darkness rather than dullness?).

But I would be interested, should there be another eclipse tomorrow, to have Winefride H Melody (Don't Be So Sour, Letters, August 20) stand on that same lawn and wait for the cheers, cries and claps she describes from her account from the Lizard peninsula.

Like Ms Melody, my brother travelled to Cornwall to join the camaraderie of fellow eclipse-fanatics at Torquay Bay and loved every minute of it. His accounts of the event are breathtaking as he describes in full glory the moment day turned to night. When I hear this I feel sad I let this chance pass me by.

Miss J L Hardcastle,

Whenby Grove,

Huntington, York.

Converted for the new archive on 30 June 2000. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.