M_J_Helin
Well-Known Member
The aurora values started looking so good in the evening that I just had to get out. It had been way too long since the last time I had photographed auroras
At first, it looked like we’d just get something "nice and small," but right as I was about to head out, the Bz took a massive dive. Then it was a mad scramble. In the rush, I forgot my quick-release plate and had to drive back for it. Like my uncle used to say: "You don't have time to do it right, but you've always got time to do it twice."
I drove to the edge of the bog and started a forced march toward the ponds. The night was stunning. A slow-growing aurora arc in the north, stars everywhere, swans singing, and that distinct scent of Labrador tea in the air. Somewhere off in the distance, an owl hooted, then another.
Finally made it. Sweating like crazy. I unzipped my jacket and just tossed my beanie and gloves on the ground. I checked the north—the aurora was still just a lazy arc. "Sweet," I thought. I hadn't missed the show.
I decided to snap a few shots toward the west to see if I could catch the zodiacal light. Well, no luck there, because a ragda suddenly lit up the western sky! While I was busy shooting that, rays started popping up in the north. Soon I could see red with the naked eye in the east, and before long, the whole northern sky was covered in these beautiful, calm rays.
The substorm died down, leaving behind some really weird shapes, especially in the west. I wondered if I was looking at a "black aurora." Either way, there were these cool dark stripes decorating the lights.
After a while, the cold and exhaustion started to kick in. Since the values were dropping and the lights were fading, I figured I'd head back to the car. But I didn't rush. I wandered around the bog and the woods, just snapping random photos.
...until I realized I had wandered off in totally the wrong direction. My trip back to the car suddenly got about a kilometer longer. Normally no big deal, but the terrain was this thigh-high, tangled mess of Labrador tea. By the time I’d finished tramping through that, I was soaked in sweat again. Great. I was dragging myself through the pitch-black, silent forest when suddenly—WHAM! Just a couple of meters away, there was this massive crashing and flapping! A grouse or some other bird blasted off right in front of me into the woods. "Holy mother of..." I actually yelled out loud. My heart was thumping like a drum. Well, at least it was just a bird and not a bear, I told myself.
I finally made it back to the edge of the bog and saw the lights had brightened up again. I checked my phone and realized there was no rush. The Bz was supposed to tank again in half an hour, so let’s see what happens.
And man, it really went off. We’re talking incredibly beautiful blue-violet rays, a flickering southern sky, and finally, an absolutely insane corona!
The corona was visibly red even without the camera. Pretty rare stuff. Sadly, it only lasted a few minutes. Things started to quiet down, but then pulsating patches and all sorts of crazy arcs and shapes started appearing everywhere. Unreal!
But all good things come to an end. Clouds started rolling in from the northwest. I was bummed and relieved at the same time. I could’ve watched that beauty forever, but on the other hand, I could finally get some sleep.
I got home around 4:30 AM. There were still tall, bluish rays in the north, but I was done. I dropped my bag in the hall, crawled through the shower, and hit the sack. Out like a light.
I wouldn't mind having nights like this a bit more often!
At first, it looked like we’d just get something "nice and small," but right as I was about to head out, the Bz took a massive dive. Then it was a mad scramble. In the rush, I forgot my quick-release plate and had to drive back for it. Like my uncle used to say: "You don't have time to do it right, but you've always got time to do it twice."
I drove to the edge of the bog and started a forced march toward the ponds. The night was stunning. A slow-growing aurora arc in the north, stars everywhere, swans singing, and that distinct scent of Labrador tea in the air. Somewhere off in the distance, an owl hooted, then another.
Finally made it. Sweating like crazy. I unzipped my jacket and just tossed my beanie and gloves on the ground. I checked the north—the aurora was still just a lazy arc. "Sweet," I thought. I hadn't missed the show.
I decided to snap a few shots toward the west to see if I could catch the zodiacal light. Well, no luck there, because a ragda suddenly lit up the western sky! While I was busy shooting that, rays started popping up in the north. Soon I could see red with the naked eye in the east, and before long, the whole northern sky was covered in these beautiful, calm rays.
The substorm died down, leaving behind some really weird shapes, especially in the west. I wondered if I was looking at a "black aurora." Either way, there were these cool dark stripes decorating the lights.
After a while, the cold and exhaustion started to kick in. Since the values were dropping and the lights were fading, I figured I'd head back to the car. But I didn't rush. I wandered around the bog and the woods, just snapping random photos.
...until I realized I had wandered off in totally the wrong direction. My trip back to the car suddenly got about a kilometer longer. Normally no big deal, but the terrain was this thigh-high, tangled mess of Labrador tea. By the time I’d finished tramping through that, I was soaked in sweat again. Great. I was dragging myself through the pitch-black, silent forest when suddenly—WHAM! Just a couple of meters away, there was this massive crashing and flapping! A grouse or some other bird blasted off right in front of me into the woods. "Holy mother of..." I actually yelled out loud. My heart was thumping like a drum. Well, at least it was just a bird and not a bear, I told myself.
I finally made it back to the edge of the bog and saw the lights had brightened up again. I checked my phone and realized there was no rush. The Bz was supposed to tank again in half an hour, so let’s see what happens.
And man, it really went off. We’re talking incredibly beautiful blue-violet rays, a flickering southern sky, and finally, an absolutely insane corona!
The corona was visibly red even without the camera. Pretty rare stuff. Sadly, it only lasted a few minutes. Things started to quiet down, but then pulsating patches and all sorts of crazy arcs and shapes started appearing everywhere. Unreal!
But all good things come to an end. Clouds started rolling in from the northwest. I was bummed and relieved at the same time. I could’ve watched that beauty forever, but on the other hand, I could finally get some sleep.
I got home around 4:30 AM. There were still tall, bluish rays in the north, but I was done. I dropped my bag in the hall, crawled through the shower, and hit the sack. Out like a light.
I wouldn't mind having nights like this a bit more often!
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