Night of the Aurora

Special thanks to Serge Timacheff of Tiger Mountain Photo, who was on the fell with us that night, for permission to use his photos on this page.   All photos on this page copyright ©2003, Tiger Mountain Photo/Serge Timacheff, all rights reserved.

   At 6:30 in the evening on Thursday, January 30, 2003  I saw my first aurora -- the aurora Borealis, the northern lights.  For only a brief moment there was a brilliant arc of green light, much like the Nike swoosh, across the sky.  Then it was gone and a fog set in around the village.

Determined to see a true aurora display, I followed the advice of a local resident - go to the top of the fell at midnight.

Along with three friends, I drove up to the top of Levitunturi at the designated hour. The fog hovered over the village beneath us. The sky above was clear and starry. The only light besides the stars came from two man-made lights and a pinkish glow of the village through the fog. The air was a crisp -22.

The solitude of night atop the fell was exhilarating!  We ran around on the fell like children playing in the snow. But there was no aurora. As a consolation there was a magnificent display of shooting stars - one so close I could see the gases burning distinct from the meteor itself!

As midnight became one in the morning, the alluring dance of the aurora began to softly play.  At first it was a tease... the faintest of green glowing in the sky, so faint you could not be sure until it went away.  Time and time again, the slight luminescence would reveal itself around the sky...and then disappear.

Then just as everyone was thinking, but no one dared to say, that it was time to return to the village, the tease became stronger, quicker, more brilliant (photo right).  Now there was no doubt we were seeing the aurora.

The glow gave way to brilliant light dancing across the sky. Flames of light licked up from the horizon. First from one direction, then another. Soon the aurora became a frenzy, a reckless rhythmic dance around the sky.  It was a dance of the tarantella. The fell was at the very center of this movement. No one had words, only primordial screams. Time ceased to exist. 

There was only the moment.

Gradually the madness of the heavens slowed to an adagio. There was time the catch my breath, time to appreciate the flowing veils of the aurora.

The light then seemed to coalesce into slender spokes.  These spokes encircled the sky above, reaching about half way down to the horizon. Directly overhead was a circle of blackness, a void through which stars dared not shine.  

The spokes radiated symmetrically from this void.  Pendants of quivering green light hung from the spokes toward the north. Then the spokes with the pendants began to dance. First just an up and down movement. Then the other spokes joined in this dance as the pendants seemed to move in a wave from spoke to spoke around the sky. This display gave the illusion that the spokes and their pendants were spinning round and round, up and down - an aurora carousel!

Soon after the carousel stopped, the light of the aurora began to fade. The forms and shapes gave way to patches of green. The light was there but the movement had faded. Finally only the faint tease of green remained.

It was nearly 4 in the morning. The night of the aurora had lasted almost three hours. About half that time was intense.

For days, each time I closed my eyes to sleep the dance of the aurora replayed ceaselessly in my head.