THE SHOCK AND AWE OF NORTHERN LIGHTS
There is nothing like seeing the wonder of nature up at the farm, writes Toban Dyck.
It was as if a raging fire had started to rip through a black, starry canvas. The blurry, soft, glowing band of green across the northern sky burst into flame. The lines were sharp, crisp, active. Colour began cutting through the sky in unpredictable and sporadic places and formations. It was a show. I strained to hear a sizzle or a crackle. Science tells me I wouldn’t. But the visual queues suggested otherwise.
Standing, alone, in the middle of a 250-acre field at 12:30 a.m. on a Wednesday, the magnitude and wild nature of this display of aurora borealis started to get to me. It was quiet. There was no light pollution. It was a moment that was difficult to process. I didn’t want to be anywhere else, but the scope of what was happening in front of me was terrifying.
The northern lights are electrically charged sun particles colliding with Earth’s atmosphere. These events occur above the magnetic poles, where in the north it is called aurora borealis (northern lights) and in the south aurora australis. According to Canada’s Northern Lights Centre, the lights can appear as red, green, pink, yellow, and sometimes blue or violet.
“The best places in Canada to view the northern lights” is a map published by Canadian Geographic. It names Churchill, Man., as the best place in the province in which to take in the event. I’ve never been there. I’m sure it’s breathtaking.
What I know — and this is 100 per cent anecdotal — is that if you can find a spot clear of light pollution and with open view to the north, there is a good chance such a spectacle is available to you.
My wife and I drive to Winnipeg from our farm near Winkler every Tuesday evening. She sings in a choir that rehearses then. And I take that time to visit my niece and nephew. It’s about an hour and a half, door to door. We get home late those days.
On one of those trips earlier this year, we could see the band of green light in our rear-view mirror.
To see the northern lights behind me for an hour and a half without a camera at the ready made driving at just 100 km/hour difficult to maintain. I wanted to get home. Aurora borealis events don’t last the night. There is a window and I didn’t want to miss it.
After charging the camera and a quick refresher on the ideal camera settings for northern lights, I set out.
Our driveway is half a mile long, and it leads to a gravel road that is not used very often. On either side of the driveway is flat, cultivated farmland. I parked half way down our land and walked into the field 20 metres or so. The only sounds were natural.
As I made my way back to my yard, I began taking pictures of the building and infrastructure that were not at all visible to me in the dark.
I knew a long exposure would pick them up, but I didn’t know they would turn out.
There is no equal to the reward of having wrestled through some mental muck to find yourself alone, late at night, standing in front of one of Earth’s most stunning phenomena, letting 15 seconds’ worth of light through your shutter, then seeing in full what was only partly visible to the human eye.
There is no equal to the reward of ... standing in front of one of Earth’s most stunning phenomena.