Chasing Rainbows @ Night

"Meet us downstairs at 9:30!" came the call from Jess our 6'3", gray bearded, 220 pound leader. His maroon baseball hat protecting his wide eyes with crows feet etched by decades in the American Wilderness. Jess is laid back, but all business when it comes to photography. He knows that the prime time to catch the Aurora Bourealis is between 10:30pm and 2am. Experience, not science, taught our leader that.

I should be excited but I hit peak REM sleep 15 minutes before the call. So whatever energy I do have is devoted to putting on my Bass Pro long underwear, Smartwool socks, Columbia orange undershirt, Northface Green & Gray stripe crew neck fleece shirt. Then the thinsulate lined jeans, REI waterproof pants, and black Baffin boots. I have two jackets but I'm sweating like a preacher in a whorehouse. So I grab my gear and only put on one jacket. The reliable favorite Orvis field coat is in hand, on reserve.

Our team piles into the Suburban and pile is being generous. Pour might be a better word. Of the six teammates, none are of athletic build and half, myself included, are above average...in weight. We start driving into the black Alaskan abyss. Jess has a garmin GPS. He is reading it extemporaneously glancing at the icy road, the sky and the Garmin. At least our seat belts are fastened...most of us.

After forty minutes of navigation we get a tour bus behind us. Evidently, I'm told, this is not a good omen. Too many people, too much light, too much everything. We get to a parking lot and there are two buses, a Winnebego, three Ford Taurus' and us. The parking lot would continue to fill like my wineglass with a Girard Cabernet 

We get out, grab our equipment, and look up: A zillion stars. The few times there is no light from the parade of vehicles and photographers, the sky is brilliant. I'm looking at the Big Dipper and Cassiopea constellations with my new friend Johnny. I have never seen so many stars, so bright. The earth's jet black ink well just had some splash from a nearby glass of milk.

I try to set up my camera and Jess shows me what I'm doing wrong. He does have the patience of Job.Anyway, abuzz now circulates around the parking lot. My teammate Murray, who in his arctic gear looks like a shorter, red Michelin Man, says "Do you see it?" I'm like "?". "That" replies Murray.

A thin greenish ribbon cuts a swath through the midnight abyss. Then I look at his camera display and it hits me. The sky is beautiful but with a camera I can find a rainbow in the dark. A brilliant green ribbon with a red header knifes through the evening. I have found the Northern Lights. Photography illuminates the breath of God. I have found the rainbow at night.

The parking lot. The bright light below is Fairbanks about 45 miles away.

The Northern Lights. I'm still mastering my camera AND I haven't edited anything yet. Please be patient.