Like - Being In Totality
Happy solar eclipse to those who celebrate! If you’re someone who lives by and will be in the path of totality, I am envious of you. If you’re near where the eclipse is traveling and you’re not in totality, all I can do is say, “Try to get into totality.” 2017 was the last time there was a big eclipse and it happened to “make land” in Oregon. As a resident of the state, I heard a lot about the eclipse but wasn’t all that interested. Fortunately, I have a mom who lives in California, reads national news, and was quite interested. At her behest, I agreed to go. We then both lucked out by her having a friend who had a house in Salem that let us stay there overnight the night before so we’d be sure not to miss it the morning of. That morning, there was a lot of waiting around mixed with anxious checking to make sure we wouldn’t miss it. We watched and watched as the sun slowly inched behind the moon—until it happened. Everything changed once we hit totality. In a rapid series of chain events: the sky got darker, the wind picked up, it got colder, dogs in nearby yards started barking, and we looked up at the glorious corona. We only got to see it for fifty-four seconds but that entire minute was breathtaking. When the eclipse ended, my mom, my stepdad, my friend Alex, and I all talked about how incredible it was for a little while. There was something about it that felt like an act of god or reminded you how small you are (to borrow a cliché expression). That sense was then amplified once I got back to Portland and talked to people who weren’t in totality for the eclipse. Their summary of the experience was that it was fine? They had disposable paper glasses that look like the old 3D red and blue glasses you got at the movies. They saw the moon get close to the sun. For them, it was neat. So let me tell you, when the choice is between a near-religious experience and something entirely forgettable, there shouldn’t be a choice at all.