The Northern Lights

published: 

A beautiful yellow paper ornament, in the shape of a five pointed star, wrapped in some lovely multi-colored string to hang it on the tree.

A few nights ago, Bryan and I gathered our warmest blankets, whipped up some hot chocolate, and snuck outside to the back porch, preparing for the Northern Lights. We live in New England, up near Boston, and even way up there the Northern Lights are a rare sighting. Experts crossed their fingers and dared to mention that, yes it was possible to see the Northern Lights, even as low as Kansas City, that night.

So, bundled under the blankets, sipping our hot chocolate, we stayed up past our bedtimes in the hopes to see something magical. At the start, our night sky hid behind clouds and bright christmas lights. I hoped we hadn’t missed the Northern Lights.

I should say, I’m not one to spend each night staring (starring) at the night sky, searching for inspiration in the stars--I’m more of a sunrise gal--but there’s something about a once in a lifetime moment that completely captures my attention.

Bryan and I looked up at the few stars we did see, chatting about hopes and dreams. It was lovely. Clouds hovered in the dark sky, hiding any hopes at spotting the Northern Lights. We grew tired pretty quickly. Yet, we still waited. Two more minutes, I whispered, straining our eyes in the hopes to see something, anything, doesn’t even need to be the Northern Lights.

Alright, I sighed, packing up our things. He slid the back door open, and I tiptoed inside. Before sliding the door shut, I peeled my eyes up at the sky one last time, quietly wishing. And like a little thank you for spending the night with the sky, it revealed a little gift to me.

The clouds began to part and fade, opening up a small piece of a brilliant night sky. It was there and then that I recognized the little dipper, framed in smoky clouds. How delightfully sweet.

So, sure, we went to sleep that night without seeing the Northern Lights, but--but--the night welcomed a bit of magic anyway.


Bryan reminded me that to actually even see the Northern Lights even way up north, the sky must be so dark, almost at its darkest. Our city is just simply too bright for the Northern Lights.

It was this day, this hour, with freezing toes and dreamy wandering eyes that I fell in love with the night sky. I want to see those Northern Lights. I want to be in places so far and so dark that I see something wondrous, special, alluring, and colorful. I want to be there.

Wishing you warm and magical nights,
~JH

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