Northern Exposure

They were directly over me. Initially no more than a tinted cloud on the horizon, the Northern Lights now stretched from one end of the sky to the other. Wispy sinews of green waves slowly enveloped our field. I looked up to see towers of green lights circling directly overhead. It was more beautiful than I imagined.Seeing the Northern Lights had always been on my bucket list. With no guarantees on my time in Seattle, I took advantage of a long winter weekend and booked a trip to Fairbanks, Alaska. Light pollution caused by a full moon is something I could schedule around. Weather, clear skies, and activity in the thermosphere would be left to chance. For the most part, I got lucky.The temperature that evening got up to minus 7 degrees Fahrenheit. Part of me was disappointed that Alaska was in the midst of a heatwave; if you’re going to do Alaska, do it right! That disappointment faded after a few hours outside.The Chandalar Ranch, about 25 miles east of Fairbanks and just around the corner from the middle of nowhere, played host to the weekend. It was managed by a multi-generational family. The matriarch was an Alaska Native who told stories of growing up on St. Lawrence Island under the tusk of a walrus. As a child on the large island between Russia and Alaska, her mother taught her things like how to make boots from seal skin. The family lived in the middle floor. On the ground floor were separate rooms. I was upstairs in the dorm-style loft.During the days, I tried to explore the area. The Santa Claus House in North Pole. Silver Gulch in Fox. The Trans Alaska Pipeline. The days were scheduled around the nights though.Finally, sadly, it was time to go back to Seattle. That last night at the ranch, I walked across the snow field to the forest’s edge. The night’s silence was broken only by the jarring crunch of snow under my boots. I looked up one last time as the Northern Lights danced between the stars. I wasn’t ready for the show to end.