When one is able to see the world thought a child's eyes they are returned to the unadulterated wonderment of possibility.
This was my feeling when I walked out onto the grass near Granite, Oregon on August 21, 2017 to witness my first total eclipse. The media had pumped the event. Proper eyewear was scares. Traffic jams were being projected. Our experience circumvented all that hype.
I was able to return to my old University, Eastern Oregon, for a quick tour on our way into the hills near Anthony Lakes Ski Resort. After finding a $14 camping spot near the lakeshore we settled in for a quick sleep before heading deeper into the valley below. We needed to be in the path of totality to be guaranteed the full eclipse experience. Near Granite we pulled into a nice field full of ranchers and diesel trucks. Overall clad families donned eclipse shades. We settled in for the long haul, laying out a blanked and pillows of clothing. The moon traipsed its way across the sun, inch by inch, second by second until totality. We were able to take off our shades for 40ish seconds to see the blacked out sun. The world was still. Everyone was mesmerized. Bills forgotten. Work left to collect dust. Obligations were momentary secondary to nature. To witness something that cannot be replicated. To witness something that cannot be stopped. The eclipse was happening whether you liked it or not. That day the moon and the sun reminded us that mother nature does not take sides.