After all, this is the North

I was walking home from work tonight, thinking about the day, listening to music, and, looking up and straight ahead of me I saw the shape of Orion in the stars. I like constellations- they make me feel grounded, like I know where I am. To my left and right in the sky was the big dipper, and directly above me was Cassiopeia. The stars follow different rules here; I can't use Orion to find Cassiopeia like I did in Alberta. As I watched the sky, the Northern lights began to appear, first on the horizon to the west, then arcing across the sky, south to north. They crossed the whole sky right above my head like a dancing green and purple scarf.

I was overwhelmed.

The Northern lights in Lac La Biche are green and wispy, like delicate puffs of smoke. They skirt the horizon, avoiding high skies, and move just slightly. They are beautiful, but small. The Northern lights here are here. They are straight up above my head, just out of reach. They make me want to dance with them, to never take my eyes off. They make it so that you don't know where to look- it all changes so fast. They are strong, like a ballerina with certain, confident movements.

I knew that the Northern lights here would be brighter and more dramatic than what I've seen before. After all, this is the North. Somehow I wasn't prepared at all. The colours brought out something in me- something like awe. It was as if I had to get away from the lights of the city, so I walked. Out of town and up the first hill that I saw. And I tried to take a picture, but the lights didn't show up on my phone camera. I got a solid shot of black.

The lights didn't last long. They never seem to. As naturally as they'd appeared and danced their way across the sky, they blinked out into darkness.

I walked home.

- Aliya