It had been a run of bad weather. Violent storms hit our village and the islands, one after another, walls and minds shaking. Enough is enough, that kind of thinking surfaced after a while. The weather, as always, didn’t care. After the last storm of that series, an all-embracing quiet spread. The ocean got calmer, wearing ice-blue again, instead of stormborn-black. It was possible to go out for a walk again, drive somewhere, do stuff, as though nothing had happened. Finally, the game of chill culminated, among other things, in the events of last night. After midnight, I felt like stepping outside before eventually going to bed. Through our living room window, I saw what was going on.
When you look at the pictures you have taken, trying to capture the beauty of the Northern Lights, it’s kind of strange. They never depict what you saw. Too much green, not enough green, the color of the street lamps a tad too pale. Even if you manage to get the perfect photo, like curtains of light dancing, close to the North Pole, in all colors of the rainbow: something is missing. The exact wording of the moment. Still, you captured a trickle, a piece of the spell. Which is still overwhelming. While you are on the look-out for the next occasion to marvel at the Northern Lights. Maybe tonight.