Alaskan Night Lights

I don't think there has ever been a Sunday where I couldn't wait for the afternoon to end and the sun to set.  Trust me, it's not because I am looking forward to Monday morning at work.  It's because there was a solar storm.  The Bz's were in the minuses, the kPa's were legendarily high...and it was broad daylight in Alaska.  So I cooked supper early,  wadonned my layers, and watched for the sun to set.    I had my toque on inside as the sun slipped below the mountains, and it was barely Twighlight as I set my lawnchair out in the frozen driveway and took a glass of wine outside in my many layers to stare up at the night sky and wait.  Now, the lights normally come out a bit later, so pretty sure the neighbors thought I was nuts, sitting in my lawnchair in the cold at 9pm.  A situation that unfolds like this has two outcome options...legendary, or ridiculous.  I was hoping my preparation wouldn't jinx my luck at saying Lady Aurora.

I knew it was going to be an early show because the international aurora nerd network was showing brilliant displays in Scotland all afternoon, and the international aurora cams were lighting up.  I was really hoping to catch some reds...I have never seen that before.

Well, I didn't have to wait long.  By 9:30 I got everything I was hoping for.  

When I quickly looked at the shots and tried to pick a favorite, it was hard tonight, but it might be this one.

 
Or maybe this one...the row of colors was so beautiful.  I shall forever think of this one when I think about Alaska Nights and Lights.

The slower moving lights were a little crisper and easier to catch.  I was so blessed to get all the reds.

This one I really liked because of the fluffy snow in the foreground.

On this one I saw a bird.

And, as the Northern Lights do, they explode into super strong bursts of color.

I see an angel in this one.

Coudn't even begin to try to get the whole display in frame.

Rivers in the sky, winding their way through the mountains.

There was so much light in the sky at times it seemed like one big ball of glowing green.

And then it softened up just a bit before the reds started to fade away.

Giving one more sashay across the skyline.

Showing up the moon...kinda felt like the long ago days of clubbing with all the lights lol.

To be honest, I prefer nights like these now (compared to nights out indoors in crowded places).

I have never seen the lights cover this much sky in my little view before.

There aren't enough words for this gorgeous display tonight.  Enjoy.  Morning will be here soon, I best head to bed.  Thank you Alaska....that was fantastic!

Worth it!  Even if I ended up just using my phone again!

The Light Stalker

Hunting for the Northern Lights is a bit of an acquired skill, which is probably why they eluded me, despite valiant efforts, for the first 5 years I was up here.  I signed up for a Northern Lights Photography Class, complete with a midnight walk through the woods to sit out and wait on a cold winter night with a group, but the clouds socked us in, and not a light was to be found.  I signed up for some apps that would give alerts, and would get up in the dead of the night when the kpa index alert went off.  I would drive up to the top of the highest road facing north in town, and wait at 1am, 2 am, starting the car for a bit of heat, layered up, walking about looking for just the right spot.  Occassionally the camera would pick up a faint glow, but nothing I could really see.  I drove north.  I drove south.  I parked in spooky places, and wandered down trailheads armed with a tripod hoping the other cars parked in the spooky places were also hunting auroras and not just silly women who wander into desolate areas at night. Over and over the cycle repeated.   I lost sleep.  I got very cold.  And finally, I gave up.  And then, the northern lights found me.

It first happened on a mild April night.  Yes, April.  There are a lot of questions from traveller's about when you can see the Aurora.  Typically the answer is September to March, when it's dark and cold.  But in theory it can happen any time it's dark.  It just happens more frequently September to March.  

"How do you see them" people will ask.  Alaskans can be blunt.  "Go outside.  Look up" is a reply you often see posted to the question online.  And sometimes that's true, you look up and see it directly overhead, as if those lights are dancing just for you.

"Look North," they also say.  OK, so turns out that is true.  I always figure my house is facing South, but according to the compass on my phone and the old guide to look where the sun rises and turn 90 degrees left to find north...turns out I point a bit Northeast.  So turns out I am situated in a reasonable place to catch the lights from time to time.

I often hear lights are the most active between 1 and 3 am.  Unfortunately, 5 nights a week, that's when I am the least active.  But, there are exceptions to all rules, and the best lights are the ones that you see, so for me, those are pre-midnight lights.  Like these ones.

So how did I catch such a glorious display?  Sheer luck.  I went to a dinner party in Anchorage, and was making my way home about 10:30 at night.  As I was driving down the lane, there was a thin, low film that looked like a cloud, but it had smooth edges, and was very well defined.  That doesn't look like any other cloud I have seen, I thought.  It was pretty fascinating to me, so when I parked the car in the garage, I wandered out and stared at it.  It seemed to be moving, like a ripple in the sky.  And then I saw a faint tinge of green on the horizon.  So I ran in to get my camera.

By the time I set up the tripod, adjusted the settings, and was ready to go, the sky exploded in neon greens.  I quickly switched to my phone camera to get all of these shots.  My 'real' camera is a bit too sensitive to allow for a 3-6 second exposure by shivering hands directly overhead.  Nowadays phone cameras are so good I just flick to night mode, point, shoot, and try to hold my breath and be still for the exposure time.  I have a Samsung S21.  No filters, no edits.

There's seeing the Northern Lights, then there is having them expode in greens, puurples, and whites directly over top of you.  I was shooting the horizon, staring up, and just pointing the phone directly over my head.  It was magnificent!  They are unfurling, wriggling, dancing all across the sky as they go.

I mean, it was just WOW.

It was worth the wait, that's for sure.

This is the kind of fire I like to see.

And you don't have to be way out in the boonies after all.  I was standing out in my driveway, with one other couple who came out to watch the lights as well.

I absolutely love being in the last unit on a dead end lane, on the last property allowed to be developed looking down on the river.  I often feel like I am much further away from civilization than I am.  When I look out my front windows, you cannot see another building in the view...well, except for the lights on the mountainside across the river a few miles.

Sometimes people see images in the light.  This one definitely has something, I leave it to you to see what you see, but I think I see a moose.

On this very day, I was having to make a decision about moving or not moving.  Obviously I took this as a sign, and stayed put!

So, if you intend to be a light stalker as well, find a northern looking spot on a clear night.  Be extra watchful on nights where there is a solar storm, negative Bz values and/or high kPa.  You can learn the science, or what has been more effective for me this year, join a facebook group of aurora watchers who share all of this info, photos, and stalking tips.  When the lights start in your area, the posts explode as well, so it can be a good reminder to get up, and go out.

If you are coming in from outside of Alaska and are intent on catching the lights, there are a lot of Aurora tours.  Many are further north in Fairbanks and have cozy cabins in remote areas to wait for the lights.  You might want to give yourself a buffer of a couple of nights, because cloud cover, snow, and low solar burst activity are hard to predict as far out as booking your trip.  But more importantly, be prepared to be amazed when you are least expecting it.  You can catch gorgeous displays on the flights in or out, at the airport, in Anchorage at the Glen Alps trailhead, in Eagle River at the Mount Baldy Trailhead, up at Hatcher's Pass, on the Knik bridge.  Just watch the posts and....look up as they say.
 

First Spring Has Been Declared

First Spring has arrived in Alaska!  It's the time of year when the days get longer, the icicles get longer as the melting increases, and on a blue sky sunny Saturday every Alaskan is bounding around outside with glee and joy that First Spring brings!  This flying white puffball is so excited its feet don't even touch the ground!  If there was ever a surer sign of first spring, I don't know what it would be.

Those of you who hail from balmier places might be wondering what is first spring, and how many springs are there in Alaska.  To be fair, it's a made up term, to address all the false warm days before nature hits us with another freeze and snow cycle.  It doesn't matter if that first inkling of spring is just a trick, or myth of the mountains.  We love it.  We rush out to enjoy it.  We dream that it will continue into the coming days until we are once again basking in the midnight sun.  But, of course, a myth it is (by Tuesday the forecast would be for 8 more inches of snow Thursday, and of course Friday had the one highway leading southbound into Anchorage closed for several hours due to 40+ cars ditched along the short trek into town).  But, on Saturday, hope was abounding as much as the dog above, and I was ready to believe!

So I put on my walking shoes (and by that I mean almost knee high Sorel snowboots and trekking poles), and decided to take a walk down to the river.

I was going to stop and sit on the little summer bench...but alas it was more than hip deep to blaze a path, and, being deluded that it was Spring, I was not in snowshoes.

While we don't get polar bears this far south or this far inland, it initially gave me pause to see this critter appear in the distance peeking up over the snow berm.

I ran into a couple of young boys, probably 8 or 10.  They were as excited as all of the other creatures out and about on the trail.  They told me "you can walk on the river down there".  I said "I am not sure I am that brave now that it's spring".  I did venture a few paces down the river after seeing skiers still going by, but then went with my first instinct whe I spotted this patch of open water where the water was running swiftly by.

Behold, the woodpecker!  I used to always hear the woodpeckers, but never see them.  I used to joke that my walks down to the river were in quest of the woodpecker's lair.   And so whenever I see them the first thought in my head is "behold!  the woodpecker!" as if some Shakespearean treasure quest. Over the last couple of winters, the woodpeckers have visited my feeder.  One of the more skittish of the birds to stop by, there are a least 2, a full grown woodpecker and a tiny spotted version of it that I assume is the baby woodpecker.  I was happy to see and hear them out picking at the trees as a sign of spring.

My usual lap is down to the river, up again, and down the wooded path that overlooks the river valley.  It wasn't quite spring enough for that.  It looks like even the moose doesn't go through unless she has to.

Mr. Muffins actually woke up, got off the couch, and ambled onto the deck under the deck.  When the world's laziest cat gets up to go outside (tiny porch tiger sighting) it truly is first spring.

They jays visit less frequently in winter, but I do still see them come round.  Their peanut intake has definitely increased.  I am not sure where they hang out on the cold dark days, but they take a break from coming to check for peanuts for a good chunk of the winter.

Heading South of Anchorage towards Girdwood, breakup is already down.  Usually early February as the ice begins to break up, you see big chunks of ice moving with the boretide....car size chunks or ice being tossed up at low tide, and picked back up at high tide.  It looks chilly, but this was a pretty nice day for February in Alaska.
 

Coming back home caught a bit of twilight framing the mountains.

When I pulled into the roadside turnout to grab that shot, I wasn't counting on a few feet of loose snow and slush....fortunately had just enough momentum to get through...getting back out onto the highway was a bit more of a problem, having to time it so I could take a run back through that and rocket onto the highway...having to stop at the 'intersection' am pretty sure I wouldn't have gotten out of the snow.

But, I did spy a mountain goat, or mountain sheep, or sheepy-goat, what ever you want to call it.  I think it was laughing at me almost getting stuck.  Or maybe it too just looks like it's smiling for spring.

Thanks for stopping in First Spring.  I think all Alaskans appreciated your visit!