Our Northern Lights Experience

So we went to see the Northern Lights.

As soon as our bags were unpacked in our rooms, the city of Reykjavik entered a 3 day snow storm. On Tuesday our excursion to see the Northern Lights was cancelled. On Wednesday, we piled onto the bus along with other tourists and drove out onto a field. The clouds filled the sky like an unceasing blanket. For a small moment, a rift appeared low and to the horizon. But we saw nothing.

The final night we were in Iceland, we decided not to go on the tour. Fran had a bad cold which I caught, and the idea of wading out in the cold for something that most likely wouldn't show up was depressing. But. Fran had read earlier that day solar flares had occurred so strongly they interrupted satellite signal. If we weren't going to see the lights tonight, he said, we woudln't see them at all.

Mitch, Fran, and Abby piled on their clothes and stalked off to the Saebrut. Just as the road bent toward the mountains, the lights ended and one could see the sky. Snorting and sneezing, I went to bed, ocasionally looking out the window for those lights you see in magazines. None.

Suddenly I'm wakened by Mitchell pelting through my room with visible, electric excitement. He had seen the Northern Lights, they all had, and he had dashed back to come get me.

Over my jammies I pulled on my coat, and hauled myself outside, depressed in spirit and certain I wouldn't see them. These wispy clouds kept coming through and blocking any sight we had. But the wind (or providence) was in our favor and blew all the clouds out of the sky. And then there was nothing.

Just sky. And I saw another wispy cloud about, and I was getting cross and ready for bed again, when that wispy, low arching cloud strengthened in appearance, but stayed fixed. And slowly it grew a very pale green. At first it was one band, and then a second, stronger band appeared directly above it, so faint it looked like clouds, and then stronger. And then a third. It stretched across the sky like a rainbow for the night, but without the vibrant color, just the one. As the arch ended over the mountains on the east side of Reykjavik, the arch digressed into many fingers.

The pale green steadily strengthened in light, but never brilliant. Then like an olympic figure runner across the arch, one bit grew brighter and faded into the next section's brightness, running like a dollop of brighter light until it dispersed into the many fingers.

Finally, the clouds blew back over and our every body member felt the cold and we turned, silent and happy to the indoors. Content. I couldn't take pictures as my camera was just inadequate. And I'm glad it was. That way I could just enjoy, and not focus on the harried moment of getting the right photo. Abby said, she felt that God gave us moments like these to slow down and admire and just be still. I must wholeheartedly agree.