On the day of the eclipse, 4-H took a trip to a farm in McMinnville to see totality. My family elected to go along because my mom insisted that totality would be worth the hour-long drive. So on the morning of August 21st, my family loaded into our van equipped with eclipse glasses and chairs. On the way, the caravan stopped at Dairy Queen to eat. When we got to the farm, my mom hurriedly put on her glasses and looked up at the sun. She screamed that it was starting, and sure enough, a tiny sliver of sun was covered. We still had about an hour until totality, so everyone who had brought lawn chairs sat down in the shade, occasionally walking out with our glasses to see how much we had left. Finally, only a crescentshaped sliver was visible. The group stood up to watch the rest of the eclipse. From my glasses, I watched the crescent sliver get smaller and smaller until it Þ – nally disappeared. When I took the glasses off, a dark orb rested in the sky, surrounded by a glowing white halo. I looked around at the horizon, a three hundred sixty degree sunset blooming around me. The crickets came out and chirped like it was night. Meanwhile, I just kept looking at the eclipsed sun, enraptured. All the sudden, just enough of the sun’s light reappeared that it looked like a diamond ring sitting in the sky. I looked at it, looked away, then tried for a second glance, but it blinded me without glasses. The eclipse was over. The total eclipse was possibly the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. It was aweinspiring. I can’t describe the way it changed my life. It was worth the travel and trouble of getting to McMinnville for just those two minutes of experiencing nature’s glory.