Aurora Borealis
"Shine like the whole universe is yours"
— Rumi
(Benjamin walking through his sleepy town
between 1:00-3:00 am.)
“Dude, I normally wouldn’t do this, but the Northern Lights are out right now.” Benjamin’s roommate, Antoine, wakes him up in the middle of the night.
Aurora Borealis is a natural light display recently seen by my son, Benjamin, in Kenai, Alaska. The Northern Lights fill the earth's sky,typically in the northern hemisphere. (Unless of course you live below the equator,you may encounter a different experience)
Auroras display dynamic patterns of brilliant lights that appear as curtains, rays, spirals, or dynamic flickers covering the entire sky. Benjamin told me in a phone call, “Mom, they moved as if it were windy outside, but it wasn’t, at least not down here.”
(Already decorated with Halloween spirits, Kenai also celebrated its own astrological spiritual encounter high in the hemisphere.)
(Appearing like clouds blowing during an early sunrise, these Auroras are the result of disturbances in the magnetosphere caused by the solar wind.)
(Resembling a sunset, Benjamin described the Auroras as an opening in the sky - as if calling him toward more.)
In my last newsletter, I spoke about the Etymology of words and how they impact us.
The word aurora is derived from the name of the Roman goddess of the dawn, Aurora, who traveled from east to west announcing the coming of the sun.
Now stay with me for this next part:
Ancient Greek poets used the corresponding name Eos metaphorically to refer to dawn, often mentioning its play of colors across the otherwise dark sky.
Sometimes called the “Rosy Fingered Sky.”
I asked Benjamin, “How did you know to go outside on that particular night?”
“There is an Aurora app,” he informs me.
“Of course!” I feign knowledge of this.
This app informs Benjamin when it may be a good day for Northern Lights.
It sends him a percentage “KP” (planetary K index), which represents the intensity of the Aurora Borealis.
Benjamin told me that, “It ranks the percentage on a scale from 1-9. These photos indicated a KP of 5.”
“Sometimes,” he continues, “It fluctuates. For example, yesterday, around 7:00 pm, the KP reading was 5.6. but, it was daylight, so I couldn’t see it.”
I’m finding this fascinating.
“The Northern Lights peak around 3:00 am.”
(Filtered telescope image of the sun.)
Benjamin also sent me this image. He calls it The Eye of Sauron from the Lord of the Rings.
“Benjamin, how does it all begin?” I ask.
I’m sure I could Google the answer, but I want to hear from his perspective.
“The sun produces the solar rays which initially starts the process of Aurora Borealis,”
he tells me.
“My eyes did not acclimate to the darkness right away, it took me a while before I could see movement. Eventually, my eyes adjusted and then I saw patterns and colors.”
“The first hour looked like a curtain shop.”
“A curtain shop?” I ask with curiosity. “What do you mean?”
“Like slow moving sheets of material silently blowing in the wind,” he describes.
“Then I was like laying on the ground with the curtains above me. My eyes couldn’t see the green because the color was so faint, but when I took photos, I could see the green.”
I asked him if he was color blind.
“Mom!” his impatient voice sharply punctuated the conversation.
“No!”
“Okay, okay, okay,” I retreat.
“The second hour, I went on a walk,” he tells me and explains that he walked through the streets of Kenai seeking a darker pathway.
“I walked through the neighborhood with no flood lamps or street lights. I laid in the middle of the street. It became intense, like a party. Polka dots appeared. Randomly, lights would show up and then disappear - no rhyme or reason. Then suddenly, gray. No colors.”
“By 2:00-3:00 am, the sky became seriously intense. Multiple shapes. Different patterns doing different things. It felt like wind. My knowledge of wind and how wind works appeared edited, like it was fake.”
“Then …
My phone died.
It sucked.”
“This was the first time I’ve ever seen the Northern Lights. It’s crazy! It’s Awesome.”
His voice is soft now.
He becomes reminiscent with his thoughts and memories.
“Mom,” he continues.
“Yes,” I reply.
“This is going to sound silly,” He sounds a bit embarrassed.
“Go ahead, it’s ok,” I respond.
“It reminded me of Brother Bear,” he says.
Brother Bear is a childhood movie about transitions, brotherhood and love; we watched it repeatedly. It’s also about forgiveness and Brother Bear shows it beautifully. The moral of the movie is that love is not weak.
“The sky looked like Brother Bear. It looked like footsteps walking in the sky”
