As the glow of the Sun's corona cast down on me, I looked around and saw the joy on everyone's faces. We were transfixed by something familiar, looking unfamiliar. What should've been there, seemed not to be there – the only clue the Sun gave away was its pinkish-red chromosphere flaring out from behind the Moon. It's no wonder that the Choctaw Native Americans once thought that a black squirrel was eating the Sun.
The clouds rolled in and blocked my view of the corona, leaving me to focus on my immediate surroundings. The hills had disappeared in the darkness, the usual insect and duck sounds had been replaced by the ‘wows’ of the crowd and the goosebumps on my arms weren't just caused by the chilly air. This was not my first eclipse, but the combination of its long duration and the joy of the festival crowd is what made it special.
A childhood dream
I grew up thinking that eclipses were only accessible to people living close to their path. So