A Growing Suspicion, A Perfect Script, and A Comfort In the Now

It's been a good run. Night after night for what feels like weeks without too much of a worry or a deep look into weather maps. This probably ends in this next night or two, but there was no sense in worrying about that when assuredly we had one more night like this.
For much of the night, the aurora was beautiful and calm. Suspiciously so, almost. Then when a cloud bank began moving in from the west, just as the most beautiful pinks and greens danced above it, a script more perfect than something imaginable in the first place was born.

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Simple Patience, My Old Friend

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Textbook Nights and the Lingering Winter Bite