Aurora hunting

 From the darkness came a sudden flurry. Materialising out of thin air, the specks danced in the still wind, growing larger as they flitted onto the balcony. The snow came out of nowhere, flickering under the grand lamps lighting up the harbour. The flakes swirled around each other, defying gravity as they hopped and bopped, catching the updrafts of the wind here and there, bouncing near each other, coming dangerously close to touching but never actually, each in their own little bubble of brownian motion; they painted the delicateness of the wind that was starting to pick up, the legion of white outlining the contours of the oncoming air. The night was dark as velvet, lit up only by the lamps and lights from the boats, and now, the specks of reflection from the happy snow. What should've been the sky was a yawning pit of blackness, the stars blotted out from view by the storm clouds that loomed over Sommaroy. 

'20% chance of viewing!' My brother yawned from the couch. Hara was making garlic bread, the smell making the kitchen more toasty than it already was. 'Let's go!!'

The aurora app had been hovering at around 4% chance of viewing, even though the band of solar activity completely engulfed the whole of northern Norway. The clouds were our enemy and they were relentless, refusing to part, even after dumping rain, snow and ice on us. They had loomed in the day, caging the sun, and now in the night they laid siege to our sight, refusing us even the faintest of view.

Everything was in a blurry focus as we prepared to head out. The blur came from the disbelief, and the tempered wishes of the week. The focus came from the desire to fulfil the bucket list. I stared up at the sky and noticed that there was now a small break. The heavens seemed brighter somehow. I gazed at the patch, willing it to widen. The sky stared back, defiant. We got into the car and drove.

The snow was thickening now, each fleck flying straight into the car, eagerly blinding our vision. Our wipers were working overtime, blinking away the white tantrums that threatened to overwhelm us. The radio cut in and out, Madonna warbling 'Power of love...', the three of us matching the enthusiasm, if not in tune, the anticipation of the possibility of the unknown filling the car. Outside, the storm raged, buffeting the car with winds that were probably 15 m/s, the snow hitting the windshield, trying to reach us. My focus had peaked with the storm, and my vision was now plying a way into the snow. It alternated between the flakes that would hit me and beyond. The bits that didn't make it danced on my periphery, joining the howl of the wind and my dim awareness of being in the flow. 

The radio cut back in Billy crooning 'It's nine o'clock on a Saturday...' Just as suddenly, the snow let up.

We looked up. The sky was on fire. 

I took it all in.

Was it just me? Or did the stars looked closer? I suppose I've gotten taller, but I remembered the stars further away. Maybe I'm bigger. Older. Look! A shooting star! Make a wish. Orion was right there, just on the horizon. He'd lost his kingly position in the middle of the sky. I'd travelled far enough north to see him kneel. Where was Sirius and Leo? Another shooting star! Another wish. Andromeda laid low, paying homage to new unknown constellations. Far in the distance, further than the stars, I could see the city lights near the next mountain range. Man and nature, mixing colours. Two boats blinking green on the inky surface of the water, out of sync, morse code saying 'you're in the right place.' I didn't need to be told twice. Another shooting star, how many were there? As many as there are days in a year. I made another wish. 

Aurora borealis streamed down through the stars, moving and immoving. Or did it weave? It looked like smoke escaping a lover's lips, meeting the sunlight rays in a sort of acceptance. Wispy and enticing, the main bulk of the lights stretched through the sky above us. The rating was 3, so it wasn't the strongest, but it lit up the sky with its unearthly glow. To the right of us, closer to Sommaroy, we could see more clouds, and the lights streaming through them, as though Thor himself had split the disobedient clouds with his hammer so that us mortals could get a glimpse of his radiance. 

The wind picked up, and the clouds hurried to obey their masters, pulling the curtain over the show. The flow was over and we knew it. We drove a little more, riding out the rest of the aurora high. The high beams of the car reflected off the snow covered fjords, radiating an otherworldliness that toed the line between reality and dream. Dead trees stood contorted, lining the roads, yelling their stories of weather that beat them into their forms. Rocks and ice spread out on both sides of the road, looking for the world like cracked mirrors that would reflect the dreams of the dreamer back onto her. The night was quiet save for the roar of the solar activity behind the hurrying clouds. 

The aurora had changed us. It wasn't definite, or even tangible, but we'd changed. It dawned on me - change is good. Good things change us. Every time I worked, every time I move, I have to journey, so as to open the possibility for transformation. 

The chalet smelt nice as we opened the door. I slathered more butter on the garlic bread. Mmmmmm. This was a night to remember.

Published on

1/4/20 9:37 PM