Lessons in Aurora Hunting

It's 2:15am as I write. I just got in, from capturing some amazing shots of the Northern Lights. Tonight was not all Northern Lights. The most startling event of the evening came when a fox scampered in front of me and I...well I need a new change of pants. The thing about watching the Northern Lights is it is so still which makes for any sound or movement a complete surprise.

My favorite shot of the night right here.

There is NO wind (which is good otherwise I'd be all icicles), and no sound aside from the distant hum of vehicles on the Glenn Highway and the dripping of melting snow from atop the roof (yes it is THAT quiet I can hear the drips)

My camera is set for a 30 second exposure and 9 times out of 10 when the shutter releases after 30 seconds it scares me and I jump. The shutter release is not loud by any means but that's how quiet it is. I got tired of getting scared by the shutter so I started to count for 30 seconds to anticipate it, but that made it worse. I resorted to humming songs which worked well.

Ripples in the sky.

Penetrating through the trees.

In addition to the calm, still silence, it is dark. Because I am intentionally gazing to the sky trying to get my eyes to focus on the dancing hues in front of me my sensitivity to light is like a million times magnified. So there was a shooting start out to the left. I was not looking at it but saw it, immediately jerking my head to the left to see it. This too startled me.

Big band low on the horizon

Then there is the grill. Yes, you read that right, a grill. I'm Northern Lights watching out on the Semmler's deck. They have a grill (naturally most people do). This grill, I don't know what it is. Even though I know it's a grill and I know it sitting there stationary the silhouette of it caused me a panic more than once.

If you look closely in the middle of the photo you will see the silhouette of the grill-the big scary grill.

But of all these things the worst, the worst of all was the fox. So I'm out on the deck, freezing my extremities (30*F which is considerably warmer than previous Northern Light shows but still very cold) the show is dying down when I hear a little pitter patter, faster than the normal dripping of melting roof snow.

The pitter patter starts distantly to my right and quickly progresses closer. A FOX!!! Oh sweet Mother Theresa!!! I yelled, jumped backward, and had a moment of intense heart palpitations. You know those moments when you see something but it takes you a second to wrap your head around what it is, yeah that was this moment. I saw the fox, knew it was a fox, but it took just long enough to where I had a moment of sheer terror.

Sky is dancing.

After that I decided I was done capturing the Northern Lights on camera (they were dying down anyways). I would like to add a disclaimer that I am not usually so jumpy nor do I scare easy but when you're alone in the dark, still, quiet and your senses are heightened everything seems spooky.

Aurora Hunting is...

1. Having to pee so bad but not wanting to leave for fear you'll miss the "golden shot"
2. Loosing feeling in your hands, feet, legs, nose, and ears but refusing to go inside because the sky is mesmerizing.
3. Being startled, yet again, by the grill but refusing to move it.
4. Yelling to the camera"process, process, process" as it stacks the 30 second exposure shot into an image, even though cheering at the camera will not increase the speed of this formation.
5. Awaking every 1/2 hour to check your phone's "Aurora App" to see if one should venture outside.
6. Tip toeing around in the dark, tripping over the dog's water bowl, refusing to change socks and I wonder why my feet are so cold.
7. Seeing a shooting star, yet again, but forgetting to make a wish of acknowledge the miracle because the dancing sky in front of you is so captivating.
8. Opening the refrigerator door to use it for light so as not to awake my host parents (they wouldn't mind anyways but I just feel bad if I woke them up)
9. Seeing the dancing sky disappear but hold out in the cold for the hopes of another swell.
10. Sleepless nights that are totally worth it!