I really wasn't that excited about the solar eclipse, but the mountains were calling me. We went to Pigeon Forge, Tennessee, for a few days, including August 21. Pigeon Forge was just outside the northern boundary of totality. On Monday, attempting to get a better view, we drove south from Pigeon Forge on Wears Valley Road to the Church of the Cove, a place where we have worshiped before on our mountain trips. It is about two miles north of Townsend, and traffic was bumper to bumper on that curvy road more than two hours before the eclipse. When we got to the church's picnic area, some of our new best friends were already there, and some came a little later. We were from Michigan, Illinois, Ohio, Virginia, Maryland, and Alabama. Some of them had guitars (could we possibly be more blessed?) and we sang every eclipse-related song we could think of-- Don't let the Sun Go Down on Me, I Feel a Bad Moon Arising, etc. We ate snacks and talked and waited. It was the
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