Mostly because I walk the dog before going to bed each night, I've become an amateur night sky watcher. I can locate several constellations and planets, and I look forward to the meteor showers. One night a few weeks ago, I saw a shooting star whiz past.But only two times in my life have I experienced the magic of the aurora borealis -- and neither time as spectacularly as in this photo.
The first time was in Athens, Ohio, when Dad called upstairs to tell us to come and look at the sky. I'll never forget the pinks and greens dancing across the heavens. I was probably about 12.
The second time was here in W.Va. about three years ago, when the northern sky was mint green with rosy ribbons swirling through the green. The Native American Cree call the display the Dance of the Spirits, and I can't imagine a better description.
No scientific explanation can dispel the sheer wonder of something so beautiful. I like to think that it is a kind of compensation nature provides to those who live in northern latitudes.
The odds are very long that I'll see the northern lights again in my lifetime, but sometimes just the possibility makes it a little easier for me to get up off the sofa and go out for that nightly dog-walk.
2 comments:
Isn't that the truth? That knowing the scientific how of a phenomena doesn't ruin its magic?
Even a plain, everyday rainbow (if there is such a thing) is something to wonder about and so are the stars every night.
Keep walking that dog.
"Aurora borealis" has always been such a magical thing to me. All we can hope for in the South is that occasionally flash of green at the moment the sun sets over the water. We watch and watch for it.
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