Astronomers, meteorologists, and such are telling us to watch for northern lights tonight. We’re ready, and, yes, it is possible to see them this far south. When we were kids, my parents would get us up at night to see them. We loved looking up at the sky. Part of the appeal was the novelty of being out on the front lawn in our footie pajamas in the dark. Part of it was sharing our parents’ delight. Mostly, though, it was the aurora borealis itself.
The northern lights are a wonder to behold. They’re red and green and white, and they move. The motion is like curtains blowing in a breeze. It’s been known to provoke dancing among the footie-pajama set.
I have lots of happy northern-lights stories. We saw them at least once outside of Michigan when we were youngsters. The family was in Minnesota on the way out west on one of our month-long camping trips. The campground, which may have been in Hayes Lake State Park, was closer to the lake than any other campground we ever encountered. It felt like we might hit water when we pounded in the tent stakes.
We enjoyed a swim and dinner and the darkness of being so near the lake. And then came the northern lights. While we were still up. And we’d all outgrown footie pajamas. What made that viewing so remarkable was the darkness. And the quiet. There must have been other campers still awake and outdoors and, if there were, they couldn’t have missed what was happening in the sky. But I don’t remember them. Just the aurora and feeling like dancing.
Hands down, the oddest experience of the northern lights occurred in a car. We were headed home from dinner with friends, one winter’s night, when we spotted the aurora. “Look,” I exclaimed, “northern lights.” “That’s not northern lights,” answered the National Academy of Sciences space physicist sitting in the front seat. “Yes, it is.” “No, it isn’t.”
“Okay, what do you think it is?” “A cloud.” “Len, it’s green.” “It can’t be northern lights,” he said. This from a man who devotes his life to studying energetic particle phenomena, especially relative to the sun and heliosphere. We went back to our friends’ house, and Len disappeared into his study to look up what was happening with the sun. “Okay, it could be northern lights,” he announced, when he came back.
It turned out he’d never seen northern lights before. So we bundled up in the warmest jackets left hanging in our friends’ coat closet, and we went back out to take a good look at the aurora. It wasn’t a big display, but all northern lights are great. What I mostly remember about the evening was Len’s denial that the northern lights could be northern lights, and then his pleasure at seeing them for the first time. It was fun to stand around in the dark with our friends, staring up at the sky while warmly dressed in their jackets. No footie pajamas, no dancing. Just camaraderie and the aurora.
The most outstanding display of northern lights I’ve seen so far took place while my husband and I were at Camp Michigania, the University of Michigan’s alumni camp, near the northern edge of the Lower Peninsula. We had turned out, one dark night, for the astronomy talk, which generally involves standing or sitting or lolling around while some bright, eager, young student uses a lighted pointer to draw the audience’s attention to whatever star or stars he or she finds riveting. The astronomy talk only takes place on a clear dark night. We tend to enjoy it as least as much for the student’s passion for the night sky as for the information he or she imparts.
It was good, on the night in question, that the student’s knowledge went deep, as what everyone wanted to learn about was the northern lights. They were out, and they were huge. They danced across the whole sky. The colors were intense. And the motion was so pronounced, I had myself pretty well convinced I could hear it. (Hah! I just looked up whether that’s possible, and the answer is yes. Woohoo! Who knew?)
So, tonight when it’s good and dark—which is to say, not quite yet—my husband and I will head outside to check for northern lights. Although it was cloudy earlier, it’s less so now. The aurora borealis could put in an appearance. But, even if it does, I don’t expect to hear it. My ears were better years ago, out on the hill at Michigania.
19 August 2022