So the idea to go and see the northern lights struck me as my physical body sat in front of the computer in the office, mind and soul still in the islandic north from summer holidays. After much research the result was clear: The lights are elusive and in remote areas that are hard to get to. Do not go just to see them or risk major disappointment. If you do however decide to do this, spend at least two weeks.
We had one night and paid 150 euros for the two of us so they could suite us up in protective cold gear and drive us on ice covered roads one hour west and near the Swedish border. Afterwards we were told to march up a hill and then look north for the next 3 hours.
Yes this is what hunting for the norther lights is like. It's sitting outside in the freezing cold staring into the darkness waiting for something to happen. Most of the time nothing does even though you've paid because this is mother nature and not Justin Timberlake.
So there we sat on our tree stumps staring north in the middle of nowhere, snow glowing white against the slender birch tree under a cloudless black sky punctured by millions of bright stars. It was so calm and quiet I could hear the breeze. One of those rare moments were you sense truly in the presence of nature.
After about an hour and some false sightings (Wait, I think I see something? What? That! You mean the cloud? Oh is it, it's a bit green no? No. Oh.) husband decided to take a break and roast us some sausages on the campfire set up in the tipi nearby. I stubbornly continued to stare into the darkness.
And then it happened. A slow greenish fog begin to appear, so slow and so gradual I wondered to myself if I was actually seeing it. I closed my eyes tight and re-opened them to make sure and sure enough, the green was darker now and more pronounced slowly engulfing itself amongst the birch trees, it's erie light enhanced by it's reflection in the snow.
Slowly it grew and retracted and ended in a mono-colored nuclear green rainbow streaked against the pitch dark sky.
I sat enjoying the show while welcoming the warmth of the sausages and hot chocolate apon husband's return. I felt truly lucky.
We had one night and paid 150 euros for the two of us so they could suite us up in protective cold gear and drive us on ice covered roads one hour west and near the Swedish border. Afterwards we were told to march up a hill and then look north for the next 3 hours.
Yes this is what hunting for the norther lights is like. It's sitting outside in the freezing cold staring into the darkness waiting for something to happen. Most of the time nothing does even though you've paid because this is mother nature and not Justin Timberlake.
So there we sat on our tree stumps staring north in the middle of nowhere, snow glowing white against the slender birch tree under a cloudless black sky punctured by millions of bright stars. It was so calm and quiet I could hear the breeze. One of those rare moments were you sense truly in the presence of nature.
After about an hour and some false sightings (Wait, I think I see something? What? That! You mean the cloud? Oh is it, it's a bit green no? No. Oh.) husband decided to take a break and roast us some sausages on the campfire set up in the tipi nearby. I stubbornly continued to stare into the darkness.
And then it happened. A slow greenish fog begin to appear, so slow and so gradual I wondered to myself if I was actually seeing it. I closed my eyes tight and re-opened them to make sure and sure enough, the green was darker now and more pronounced slowly engulfing itself amongst the birch trees, it's erie light enhanced by it's reflection in the snow.
Slowly it grew and retracted and ended in a mono-colored nuclear green rainbow streaked against the pitch dark sky.
I sat enjoying the show while welcoming the warmth of the sausages and hot chocolate apon husband's return. I felt truly lucky.
No comments:
Post a Comment