Colours in the Sky
When my husband said last week that a severe geomagnetic storm was heading our way promising the very real possibility of seeing the auroras, I was sceptical.
We've been down this road before — quite literally. In 2017, we drove up the Sea-to-Sky Highway in the dead of night chasing auroras, only to be met with a sky full of clouds and nothing to see. Not even the moon — not even the stars.
But this time felt different. This geomagnetic storm was forecast to be the strongest to hit Earth since 2003. This storm was expected to be a G4 severity — the type of power that can mess with power grids. The type of power that makes seeing the Auroras very probable.
I was hopeful.
So on Friday 10th May, at about 10.30 pm, I took the dog out for her last pee of the day, checking the sky for anything unusual. I felt sure the light pollution from Vancouver would dilute any stunning light show. The moon shone particularly bright that night, its shape a thin fingernail crescent in a dark, navy blue sky. I heard people talking in their gardens and a group of kids chatting excitedly as they passed me on the road.
As I watched above, I noticed a strange blurred line marking the sky above me. It shifted in shape before disappearing along with an eerie orange glow that had appeared at the same time.
Excitement filled my body. This is it! These are the lights! This had to be them, right above our house.
I ran inside, dropping the leash with my dog still attached and grabbed my phone.
"There's something in the sky!" I shouted to anyone who might hear me.
My husband and eldest daughter ran out with me. We all stood looking up at the sky.
"See? That line. It's moving around."
"Why don't we drive up the highway to Porteau for a better view?" said my husband, always up for an adventure.
We ran back inside, grabbing warm jackets and corralling our other daughter, chatting excitedly at the celestial show what we might see.
As we drove up the highway, away from the lights of the city, the sky darkened and an otherworldly green aura caught our attention as it rippled across the sky. Through the open sunroof, we watched the sky moving, the colours undulating high above. We ooed and ahhed in wonder while my poor husband, focused on navigating increasingly congested roads, swore at the traffic. Of course, we weren't the only people who had come up with this brilliant idea.
Cars lined the highway for miles, everyone pulling over to take the opportunity to stop for a moment in awe at this humbling event, to stare at this incredible light show.
We have no choice but to keep going, stuck as we are with the rest of the city, all looking for a dark place to view the beautiful, colourful light dancing through the solar wind.
By the time we arrive at Porteau, the traffic is thick and heavy. Finally, we do a U-turn and look for a space to park along the highway. We park, get out and are met with an irate man in a high-visibility vest standing by a tow truck who threatens to tow our car. He threatens to tow every car parked illegally along the highway.
Good luck with that! We grumbled.
Eventually, we turn off the road and find a space in a car park. We walk until we find a clearing away from all the car lights and noise, a place where we can stand in silence, absorbing the magic happening in the sky. Emerald greens and vivid pinks swirl around, dark holes open and close and light arcs in every direction.
Of course, we take many photographs, my vintage iPhone managing somehow in the cold, dim light. We watch in wonder until our necks are sore and our arms too tired to hold our phones aloft any longer.
By the time we're back home, it's 1.30 in the morning and the dog is more than happy to see us. Looking back at my pictures today, I can't quite believe how lucky we were. Finally, we experienced the Northern Lights.
