Northern Lights Dancing Amidst the Clouds–Remembering the Energy of Light

Northern Lights Dancing in the Clouds

On my recent trip to Iceland, I was fortunate to see the northern lights a few times when we were in the northernmost parts of the country. The spectacular photos you usually see in books are on line were taken when the lights are rated at an 8 or 9. We were lucky to have a 2 or a 3 on the couple of nights we did see them and there were clouds in the sky. The second night of our trip, just as our dinner was about to be served, someone said the lights were out. I ate about 5 bites of food, so people wouldn’t be upset with me, and ran outside. (It was some of the most delicious salmon I have ever eaten, but the lights called). For a few seconds, I witnessed the dancing swirling lights. The way the lights and the clouds were interwoven was very special, and it made me realize that light does not just have value in itself, it is what it illuminates and reflects off of that often makes light so fascinating.

Northern Lights Over the Lake and Mountain Ridge

These lights almost looked like they were coming out of the bottle a genie. They penetrated the clouds and shot through to the dark sky beyond. They were fluid and shifted as they met the clouds in the atmosphere and then their power shone through in the sky above, becoming stronger and more focused. One of the most fascinating things about the northern lights is how they morph and move and go from fluid too sharp. Looking at these images again, I see that these qualities are important in our own consciousness too. We perceive things and feel we gain a level of understanding, but then clouds come or outside force cause our light to flicker and dim, but once we refocus we can often see more clearly than when we originally encountered a new situation in the world.

Northern Lights with Clouds and Mountains

The location behind the restaurant was not the most scenic, so Hakur, our guide, told us to all hop in the vehicle and we drove a short distance to where we could see the mountain ridge unobstructed. The skies were becoming cloudier and cloudier, but these lights came in almost horizontally under the clouds. I wondered if the weight of the clouds was affecting the lights and not just obscuring them.

The other day after a storm, I was looking out through the windows in my sunroom and saw lots of fog and mist. The sunlight was absent, but light was still coming from somewhere though it was dim. I was having my coffee and thinking about the virus, my son who is still ill, and how much we don’t know about how life is going to be in the future. Sometimes the light in the world seems to be going out, but then I remembered these lights and how they found ways to dance and penetrate the darkness and I knew that the spark of hope is always alive even in our darkest hours.