In the eighth grade, I dated a young man who’s father studied the Northern Lights. Throughout their home were pictures of the mysterious green, purple, and blue lights dancing across the atmosphere. As I looked at the images I dreamt of seeing them one day in person.
When I decided to make my dream come true to see the Northern lights, I planned a trip to Norway in the middle of winter. I spent weeks researching the best way to see the lights and had finally decided on a cruise along the fjords. The plan was to travel by barge for twelve days in hopes of seeing the atmospheric wonder.
The week before my departure, the weather conditions in Europe weren’t favorable and I had to cancel the Norway portion of my trip. I had already booked my flight to London and hadn’t taken out a travel insurance policy so I decided to follow through and head to Europe anyway.
As I took my seat on the transatlantic flight, the pilot announced that the lights would be viewable as we crossed over the North Pole.
I went to the flight attendant and told her about my list and how I had come on this trip to see the lights. She noticed my seat and told me that they wouldn’t be viewable from my location, but that she would make certain my dream came true.
A few hours into the flight, the woman woke me and motioned for me to follow her to the front of the plane. At the first class door, she cleared a space for me to sit by the window and told me to stay as long as I desired.
I looked out and saw a sea of fluffy clouds and billions of stars. Then I saw the green lights moving above the clouds. They didn’t dance like I’d seen in videos. It was as if they hummed. I stared at them for over twenty minutes amazed at this journey I’ve taken. I wanted to see the lights. I thought the opportunity had passed, but somehow the dream still came to me.
I still want to see the lights from the ground. I would love to take pictures, but I will never forget seeing them from the sky. It was if the universe gave me a gift.