On the evening of Thursday, October 10, 2024, I had been locked in my room all day, exhausted from an intense CHEM-100 study session. After an evening nap, hoping to pull myself out of my groggy mood, I decided to head to Agora for dinner. There, I found my friends and joined them for some random table talk. A part of me felt impatient about the time slipping away.
While everyone spoke and I listened, swirling my spoon in hot mushroom soup, my thoughts nagged at me: “Go study; you have one whole chapter left to revise!”
The conversation among my friends ranged from the most amazing water rides to their experiences in Dubai. As I listened with intrigue and surprise, one of them said, “Oh! You guys know we have a Northern Lights forecast today, right?”
“But it’s quite cloudy!” another pointed out, a genuine concern. He tracked the visibility update using an app on his phone; it didn’t give us much hope.
I looked down at my empty bowl of soup and glanced at my watch—it was 9 o’clock. An hour had slipped by, and I was thinking about the chapter I had to finish. It was no joke; it was the horror of “Chemical Reactions and Stoichiometry”!
Apart from Alaska exploration episodes on National Geographic and some Instagram pages I follow, I had never really witnessed the Aurora Borealis, popularly called the Northern Lights. I had heard about it from my seniors and relatives and had even read about the scientific phenomenon behind it.
I looked at them and said, “Why don’t we just give it a try?”
I was glad when the group responded enthusiastically. In a few moments, we were out of Agora and set out to find the right spot to glimpse the Northern Lights. It was a chilly 3°C outside as we walked toward the David Douglas Botanical Garden.
One of us said, “Look up, guys!” pointing to the dark sky. All I could see was a long, grey-lined streak above us.
I was puzzled. Is that what it’s supposed to look like? I asked my friends, and one of them explained that the wavelength of the lights was too low for our eyes to capture (perks of having physics major friends). Meanwhile, they showed me the pictures they took while pointing their phones at the sky.
Yes, there were colors! No longer were they the lifeless grey streaks I saw above me. They were small, youthful traces of neon green. Witnessing traces of the Northern Lights, especially on a cloudy day, was a stroke of luck.
We quickly made our way toward the Shane Lake route behind the university residence. We didn’t go that far—just enough to find an area free from light pollution, total darkness. While we joked about saving ourselves from potential bear threats, I pulled out my phone and snapped a picture of the sky.
I looked at the pictures I had just taken. The guys were hyped up, and we showed the images to each other. By this time, I remember clearly staring up at the sky, smiling like a little child. It was an endearing moment. The neon green flashed more and more, mingling with a faint glint of violet, like a deliberate spill of colors over the endless black canvas. Tall, dark trees lifted their pale leaves against the chilly wind, spectating the strongest geomagnetic storm of the month along with the five of us.
After a few moments, it was gone. The streaks vanished as if they had never existed. It felt like they had been there just for us. I stood there, wondering if it had been an illusion. While the group was content to have witnessed the lights and planned to head back to the dorms, I couldn’t get over the bounteous glimmer I had seen that night. How can something as scary as a solar storm manifest into the most stunning phenomenon a person can ever see? I was in love with the moment.
Well…yes, I did have a little difficulty with the revision for the next day. Yet, deep down, I have no regrets. Maybe because the moment I had witnessed and the feeling I had felt were much more significant than revising that last chapter. I got back home and called my parents and sister, 13,000 km away in India. They were pleased and overjoyed when I shared pictures with them.
Sometimes, it’s right to follow what your heart tells you. Let your instincts guide you. Maybe you can witness a memorable Northern Lights on a cloudy night as well!
