The blog
Touch and go
For the second night in a row, I was out of the house early. Early, early. Twilight was still on the horizon, and the aurora was already dancing overhead.
It was almost the anxiety inducing aurora of this is all just too beautiful and too much will never be enough.
“Every kilometre felt like an eternity.”
But it was on to grab my guests and get out of town, or try to get out of town without pulling over every 100m. We couldn’t get away fast enough. Every kilometre felt like an eternity. We made a stop on our way out, and then another trying not to miss a moment. And finally in a quieter moment, made our final run to where we settled in for the night.
Never a doubt
It was a cloudy night in Yellowknife through and through, and after a good half hour drive out we reached partly clear skies which didn’t last. We were getting clouded out with the clear breaks being eaten up almost entirely by cloud and what was left of the clear break was moving back toward Yellowknife.
We packed up the car, and as we were about to pull out of the driveway we had tucked ourselves into, a guest confirms if we are going in the direction of Yellowknife to those clear breaks which passed over us. It was the logical thought.
Actually we are going to head further west, hopefully through this cloud to more stable clear sky. Probably another 20-40km, I said.
Forecasts were showing more stable clear breaks up far in the northwest, and it looked like there might be some clear sky low, low on that northwest horizon from where we were.
“And you never doubted this for a moment, right?…”
Our next 30 odd kilometres were under a lot of heavy cloud and over a lot of frost heaves.
We finally started to reach a few stars, and shortly after tucked into another small driveway with the sky mostly clear. It wasn’t long until the aurora danced above us. It was perfect, perfect timing, and as this was all unfolding, I joked to my guests that they definitely never doubted this for a moment earlier…
A call back to 2008
While we drove away from the Nova Hotel and the last of the downtown city lights, we all watched the aurora from the windows of the car. We were leaving town early tonight and still the aurora was ahead of us, but it was to be expected under these kinds of conditions.
I told my guests that we will see the aurora the entire drive out, and it will be beautiful, but we will keep driving to get into a better position for later in the night. She will stay with us, so don’t worry about her disappearing as we drive.
“We trust you.”
There was nothing to worry about this night.
As soon as we arrived in the countryside, we bounced out of the car and immediately reached for our tripods and cameras. We were the happiest bunch over the next several hours. It was one of the nights that produced audible gasps and repeating heavy, heavy beauty sighs from me.
Through my early aurora chases with Kjetil in Tromsø, over the weeks of cosy stays at his place with his family, long daytime drives to the countryside and late nights aurora chasing, he was always so gracious and humble.
We were stopped at a gas station one night on one of our chases, and while other guests were finishing up getting snacks inside, he was showing me some of the wallpapers he made for his phone background from some of his photos. They were breathtaking, I was in complete awe. They were gorgeous, gorgeous photos - deep twilight skies from shoulder season aurora chases, stunning purples and red coronas, and he shared with them me, to my little old black Nokia 7500 Prism, for my background. The images are ingrained in my mind forever. I loved them, and I hung onto what they meant and where they came from - this friendship, generosity and wonder.
So this night when we started seeing these incredible, sunlit auroras at the beginning of the night, and later, the repeating coronas filled with the most beautiful reds overhead, I was taken instantly back to those 2008 chases with Kjetil that I’ll never forgot or let go of.
The beat goes on
The final week or so of September filled with night after night of delicate timing within foggy drives, smokey skies, and a few rain showers along the way.
Temperatures are finally beginning to fall, and we’re regularly reaching the dew point. You can feel this wet cold. It’s not the comfortable, dry nights of August any longer.
The aurora has continued to be completely breathtaking. I’m still in awe, I still feel the wonder and amazement. It’s almost a feeling of overwhelming bewilderment. How is this so beautiful, time and time again, and how lucky are we in Yellowknife to be here with it.
I just don’t understaaannnd. I mean I do, but I don’t.
A renewal of the beauty sigh
I get them just looking back at these photos, picking them out of Capture One to export for this blog post. Beauty sighs.
This night was about 10 days ago already, as I fall further behind. Night after night of intense beauty, but I remember the feeling, I remember the heaviness in my chest. It was almost just too beautiful. If it all lasted forever it would have been too short.
It was exactly the escape I talked about my post before. This is a beauty that frees you, that heals you, and the beauty sighs are just the quieter little physical manifestation of that.
These are the nights we dream of, and not every one is just this way. There have been messy nights in between - of longer drives, heavy cloud, and running between locations to keep up with clear breaks. But there’s a little of this kind of beauty and peace in all of this, in even those messy nights. It’s a part of this lifestyle I cherish so much.
