On That Which Is Possible
Reflections on the Aurora Borealis
The rain strikes steadily on my bedroom window as I wistfully scroll through photographs of the Aurora Borealis from around the world. Although I am perfectly positioned to see the Northern Lights geographically, I am alas not as fortunate meteorologically.
Although I wish for clearer skies, the truth is I cannot be too terribly sad, for I have seen the Aurora Borealis before and it is one of my life's most profound moments. Back in September of 1991, on the last night of my first journey to Glastonbury, I climbed the Tor with some friends to bid farewell to the land that had held us in its magic for several weeks.
There, upon that spiraled hill, we were blessed with a most unexpected sight: a green aurora — a shining ribbon of light — had unfurled itself across the night sky. I don't know how long I stood there, overcome with sacred awe, before I found my voice and asked a local friend how often the Northern Lights appeared over the Tor. I'll never forget his breathless reply: "Never."
There were no digital cameras back then, so the experience has only been archived in the well of my memory. And so I had to pause and catch my breath when I came across a stunning photograph of that very hill, silhouetted against the scintillations of the Aurora Borealis once more. Tonight’s auroras are much more dramatic than those from 33 years ago, but the photo nevertheless brought me right back to that moment…
…and I am reminded that sometimes, even "never" must give way to the shining hope of possibility.
Be well my friends!'
(This is a formerly unpublished draft from May, 2024.)
That must have been so magical and unexpected! I’ve been looking out for them in Glastonbury but so far haven’t caught a glimpse despite the last years of several occurrences. But I do remember when I first saw them in Iceland. I was alone travelling in the west fjords camping up near an outdoor pool at the end of a road which was at the end of a fjord. So no one around for miles. I couldn’t sleep so I sneaked into the warm geothermal water and breathed through my excitement and nervousness of being in the middle of nowhere alone. When I looked up and suddenly saw white dancing spirits, green foxes and light fairies approaching the sky above my head and soon i was enveloped in this magical occurrence. It came so unexpected as it was early august and something within me changed forever. i think its when i felt genuine sacred awe for the first time.