Earth's glowing aura
Me, envious? You bet! And electrified at the same time. All those reports of solar flares lighting up night skies with shimmering colours, visible from Alabama to Alberta and across the UK, had me in a tizzy. My zoom fitness coach, Cindy Legare, held up her cell phone before class two weeks ago, showing spectacular pictures she’d taken from her hilltop home in rural Ontario. And did so again a week later.
Though familiar with white ones, I can count on the fingers of one hand the times I’ve seen coloured northern lights, reds, greens and even blue. But I’ve never witnessed the glowing pink plumes and curtains everyone’s been raving about. Reason enough for crawling out of bed at 2:30 a.m. instead of rolling over and going back to sleep.
Our house faces south, offering a view of open sky over the front yard and garden, but is otherwise surrounded by trees: a great wall of spruce to the east, cedars to the west and, tallest of all, white pines to the north, right behind the house. I love them dearly, except when I’d like to see what’s going on in swaths of sky they’re blocking out.
So forget the balcony or yard. I had to bundle up and hit the road, flashlight in my pocket in case I stumbled over a “wild animal”—placid skunk out on its nightly rounds, perhaps.
We don’t have streetlights in our neighbourhood, thanks be, just one annoying bulb way up at the corner, and far-off glaring ones in industrial parks beyond. But a few low clouds blowing by in a brisk wind reflected enough urban glow that I could see where I was going, yet left great patches of stars exposed. No shimmering pink showers or spirals, alas, but a wonderful view of the heavens.
After walking up and down the road awhile, checking out gaps in the trees for northern-sky exposure, I went back home for binoculars, then settled on a convenient bench to study the stars. Orion the Hunter was up there, striding west, his bow raised, his faithful hounds at his heels. Gazing through my 16-power stabilized Kite optics, as good as a telescope, I got the best look I’ve ever had of the giant nebula that’s part of his sword. And was able to compare Betelgeuse, the bright red star at Orion’s shoulder, with the coppery planet Mars, not far off to the left.
Jupiter was up there as well, two of its moons visible. And the Pleiades constellation, a thumbprint smudge of light to my naked eye, resolved into the mythic Seven Sisters, nymphs glittering “like a swarm of fire-flies tangled in a silver braid,” as Lord Tennyson so poetically put it. No wonder Orion was pursuing them!
Solar storms, most powerful in turbulent sunspot areas of our nearest, dearest star, create the electromagnetic eruptions that spray all kinds of X-ray, gamma and other energy waves our way, exciting ions in Earth’s atmosphere to light up in response. “Solar maximum” of the 22-year cycle is predicted for 2025, meaning many more auroras may be coming. I plan to be ready and waiting, scouting geomagnetic storm watch sites such as SpaceWeatherLive.com for news of any coronal mass ejections.
I’m sorry I missed seeing northern lights while out exploring the other night, but watched in wonder as the sky turned pearly pink near dawn. And then the sun rose out of Lake Ontario, streaming gold across the water. Reward enough for my vigil.
I also did not see them. Rarely seen here, but apparently very vivid this time. Rats!
They are amazing. I did not see any in Scotland from Dundee! Grew up with them in Alberta!