Wednesday, March 23, 2011

After days of freezing my butt off by the harbor, I finally caught up with Ms. Aurora Borealis about 20 miles outside of Reykjavik. You know how I knew it was going to be a successful venture that Saturday night? Not only had I seen faint wisps of green above the city, but... "We Weren't Born To Follow" came on the radio right before the drive began. What the heck are the chances? I just laughed and shook my head. I can't believe I'm going to say this, but in the past year, all good things have started with Bon Jovi.

Like all things otherworldly, photos, particularly my rookie photos, do not do this phenomenon justice. At all.

For those of you I hadn't spoken to previously about this impromptu trip to Iceland, the Aurora was the entire reason I came. While I adore New York, sometimes it can just get to be too much. Too many people, too many buildings, too much... everything.

In order to make your relationship with this city successful, you need to know when to leave. You need to know when to take some time on your own to decompress. You also need to know when to come back.

And this trip? This trip was the result of having a great day on Expedia and wanting to cross something off my bucket list.

But you know what? The funny thing about having the Aurora at the top of your bucket list is that you end up not wanting to cross it off. It is the most incredible thing that I have ever seen. It takes a lot to impress me, but I just sat there, on the ground, in 6° weather, in complete awe. I believe I was talking to myself as well. But who cares? Who was there to hear me? Sure, there was another couple who had pulled over to watch the light dance, but they were doing the same thing I was.

If I saw the Aurora everyday for the rest of my life, it would still never bore me. You would not believe how it moves, how it's there and then it's not... then you drive a mile down the road and it's there again and more brilliant than it was before. You could see an entire night of the Aurora or you could see nothing... like I had for days. The many freezing hours you don't see it are worth the few extraordinary moments that you do.

And when you see it? You could care less that you are chilled to the bone.

The next time Ms. Aurora and I come into contact? No cameras. No tripods. This is something I want to see again with someone. Someone who cares as much about the universe as I do. Someone who wants to lay on the snow-covered ground and just look at the art the sky is painting for you - not saying a word, until you get back into the car to start the chase again.

To see it with a friend, to see it with a lover, just to see it with someone who cares about what is in front of their face. To look at him, to look at the sky, to have him look at you, to look back at him and have the two most beautiful things in the universe in front of you. Now that, that would be perfection.

Photo taken on 3.12.11.


par·al·lel said...

Love the last 2 paragraphs.

Alli Harvey said...

Thank you! The Aurora isn't an easy thing to write about, so I went down another road. Very, very happy you enjoyed it.