It’s old news, I know. But it continues to replay in my mind. And, now that some weeks have flown by, I can revisit it from a distance. Jim and I were out on our wooden deck, heads tipped to the sky, hoping to catch a glimpse of the International Space Station (ISS) as it made its way over our small midwestern town. Every month or so, the ISS makes numerous passes over our portion of the sky. Early night is the best time to catch it as it orbits over us: the last gleam of the setting sun makes it shine bright in the darkened sky. We often look for it when we know it’s coming through. Tonight, though, we can’t locate it. We check our watches. It should be above us but we don’t see it anywhere.
As our eyes get used to the dark, something else catches our eye. There’s a deep dark red glow in the center of the sky. Jim thinks it’s the last light of the sunset but it’s 10:30 at night and the sun went down at least an hour and a half ago. He pulls out his phone and takes a picture. All of a sudden, it dawns on us. Could this be the northern lights? We knew that they might be visible in our skies tonight but whenever we’ve heard of this possibility, it’s never happened. We also live in an area where light pollution affects the darkness of the sky. I have caught the Perseid meteor showers in August but have rarely seen more than a few flying across the sky.
The photo on Jim’s phone shows something unusual though. With our phones in hand, we move to the front of the house. That’s when we see a strand of light rising from the ground. I put my phone up to catch it and there on my screen is something I thought I might never see. Streams of color dance before my eyes changing in intensity and pattern as I watch, mesmerized. I take a series of photos to capture the sight. For the next half hour, we stand, with our phones in our hands, scanning the light show above us.
We had hoped to someday travel to Tromsø, Norway for a chance to see the northern lights. But here we are, in Indiana, in our own backyard, taking in what can only be described as a magical sight. Without our phones, we can see the faint glow of color but nothing like what shows up on our phone screens.
The following night, and the following, I go outside around 10:30, turn my phone toward the sky and wait. Nothing. Maybe over here? Nothing. Did I really see those northern lights two nights ago? It all seems like a dream.
For a week or so later, I return to that night and think about it. Sometimes a gift like this one comes my way and I can’t see it. Maybe because I don’t want to believe in it or because I’m not looking for it. Or because I don’t take the time for it. Or because I don’t give myself the possibility for it. I can find so many excuses to miss out on life if I try!
What remains in my mind, along with the once in a lifetime experience of the northern lights, are these words:
Be present to your life and keep your eyes open
Move beyond the things that keep you from seeing what’s in front of you
Ask for help if you need it
Go forward and look for the possibilities
You never know what might unfold in front of you. For one night, we were left with a glimpse of that glory.
Keep Your Eyes Open