My best friend has been bothering me to start a blog about my new life and adventures. I’ve been resisting because I don’t know who it would interest, but a dam broke somewhere in my soul tonight, and I feel like I have so much to say. Therefore, this blog is going to transition from a fitness/vegan blog into an Alaskan lifestyle blog. So let’s get this show on the road.
The event that changed my mind from not blogging to blogging again, writing for the public, was the most spectacular display of aurora borealis anybody could hope to see. To set the stage: I had had a fairly pleasant week at work, I went to my friends’ house for a nice Friday dinner, and I was driving home feeling pretty content with my lot in life. All of a sudden, as I was descending from the hills of Fox to return home to North Pole, I came out of the trees and saw LIGHT!
Unfortunately, iPhones cannot capture the mind-blowing display that is the northern lights. But I can say it’s every bit as impressive as photographs. After I had nearly driven off the road half a dozen times trying to watch the lights, I pulled over into the end of someone’s driveway and got out.
The lights take up the whole horizon. These were green, white, purple, and pink. And they really do “dance” as the most unoriginal writers claim. These huge ribbons of light furl and coil across the sky, merging, separating, writing in a language nobody can read. It’s like a mirror image of everything beautiful that’s happening on Earth, and it’s reflected back at us, and all you need is a pair of eyes socked into your head and a pulse to receive the bounty.
That’s when it occurred to me that not everybody has those things, the simplest of things, the lowest level of health. And I was struck by how right my life feels, how charmed it is, how I appreciate the path my life has taken. And I had to share this awesome experience because it’s just so.damn.moving.
I finally got home, grabbed a beer, and went to stand in my backyard in -2*F weather (which is practically balmy here). And I watched. You can’t really go inside when a ballet of the whole cosmos is showing right there in your own backyard, free admission, BYOB. So I stood and sipped and watched. My yard was lit by a bright moon.
The movement of the lights puts me in mind of the dolphins swimming in a pod and jumping in and out of the waves. Or a flock of birds in flight. Or waves crashing on the shore. It also really makes me feel like someone somewhere is trying really hard to reach us. It seems like that other being is RIGHT THERE, pressed up close against the glass, and all we have to do is make the merest movement back, and we’d touch him or her.
I might mean God.
I might mean alien life forms.
I might mean our own consciences trying to remind us to look the f*** up sometimes and be present in the moment.
As I watched the lights revel in their own glory, I also saw a shooting star. And I can’t remember the last time I saw one. I made a wish, my secret heart wish, and I dearly hope it comes true. But even if it doesn’t, I won’t mind a bit. The star streaked a long way down the sky, seeming very small and insignificant compared to the lights.
Eventually the lights smudged out and became faint glimmers. The lights don’t always appear as the dramatic curtains and ribbons captured in photos; sometimes it’s just smudges that kind of look like the Milky Way. The most common colors are green and pink, though they can also be blue, violet, red, or yellow. And by the way, “aurora borealis” means “dawn of the north.”
So now I’ve written this long blog post without any explanation. Hello. My name is Kristin. I’m a lawyer and an Air Force officer. I’m stationed near Fairbanks, Alaska for three years. I love my new adventure.