Dockside Splendor
90 Minutes of Northern Lights in the Northwoods
Aurora isn’t one who follows a schedule. Even when all indications point to an appearance, she is fickle and may turn her back on you. But when the northern lights (aurora borealis) do come out to play, all of those times she stood you up are forgiven.
The weekend we opened the cabin for the season, the skies began to glow shortly after 10:00 p.m. Imperceptible at first, but then unmistakable as the otherwise dark waters of the lake at night brightened. Walking out onto the dock, I looked back to catch the tail end of the blue hour, hanging on at 10:30 pm. The joy of being up north.
In a matter of minutes, the light shifts and skies change. With only my cell phone in hand, the photo quality is not the best but it still captures some of what the eye cannot fully see. The breeze caused trees to blur with the 10-second exposure, and the lake’s surface had the slightest of ripples which blurred the reflection to a dreamy gradient of colors.
Within minutes of walking to the dock’s end, pillars of light could be seen shooting upward even with the naked eye. Turning my cell phone to the northern horizon revealed the layered details of those purple pillars overlaying swirls of green.
The wall of shimmering light then separated into bright distinct pillars again.
As my first 30 minutes on the dock wound down, the lights seemed to diminish. I turned back to the cabin, and debated going inside. Even without the northern lights, the evening was a beautiful one to be out — early enough in the season that the mosquitoes had not emerged, just a slight chill in the air. Dark skies can be hard to find, and the absence of bright dockside lights around the lake enhances the brilliance of the stars.
Time at the cabin is for slowing down and being fully present. Distractions are minimized, at least the distractions that are not as welcome as the night skies. As the clock struck 11:00 pm, I gazed north once more before turning in for the night. I felt a smile involuntarily spread across my face and that inexpressible change in your body and heart when in the presence of something awe-inspiring. Aurora returned for round 2.
Aurora was reminding me of the virtue of patience, something our society increasingly leaves behind in its demand for immediate gratification and continuous news cycles.
Standing in its glow, with camera by my side, the northern lights undulated across the sky and pillars randomly pierced the darkness. Every few minutes, I would turn my cell phone back to the horizon and hold my breath while anchoring my elbows against my middle as the 10-second exposure counted down.
The layers of light deepened, even as random clouds periodically attempted to interfere with the show.
Greens, purples, reds all took their turn.
Rachel Carson’s quote — "What if I had never seen this before? What if I knew I would never see it again?" — is fitting for moments of wonder. While I have been fortunate to see aurora many times now, every time is a renewed sense of marvel. As it should be. If we reach the point of taking scenes and experiences like these for granted, we lose the urgency of wanting to preserve and protect them for not only ourselves but also for others to enjoy.
What if I did not see aurora again? What if the dark skies were not so dark in the future? What if life threw one of its many curve balls and I was not able to navigate the path to the dock and wander out at night alone to embrace the solitude under the lights?
All I can know is the time I am in. And that evening in mid-May was a gift that I did not take for granted. I stayed on the dock as an hour passed, and midnight approached. In addition to the stars, an extra-bright light was setting on the western horizon. Jupiter shone brightly enough to reflect in the lake alongside aurora.
A bit of dissonance was present knowing that wildfires were raging elsewhere in northern Minnesota, while we watched a hazy sunset give way to this art display a short time later.
The slight breeze quieted, the waters went still and aurora mirrored her magic in the reflective waters of the lake’s surface.
The clock grew close to striking midnight. The lights continued but I closed out my time with them.
I lay in bed looking out the windows; the glow behind the trees along the lakeshore invited me to join in the dance again. Fighting that temptation, I closed my eyes and let the images replay in my mind as I drifted off to sleep, grateful to have witnessed these moments of dockside splendor.
~ Kat B.
Your cabin - what a wonderful place to be present.
so gorgeous, the words, the sentiment, the photos. i think the northern lights are the most striking when they come as a surprise.