Behind the Story: Luli & the Northern Lights

Adventure into the Alaskan Wilderness:

Photo by Thomas Lipke

Alaska was a huge inspiration. A nature lover, I ventured to the Far North in one of the coldest months of the year to the puzzled looks of family & friends. Donning a parka and several layers of clothing, I traveled to an area just below the Arctic Circle to immerse in the Alaskan wilderness and learn about the rich Inuit culture. I spent several face-numbing nights standing in awe of the Northern Lights, witness to one of the most spectacular shows of light I have ever seen, and felt the pure rush of dog sledding, as the hurried footfall of canines led me through treks of snow-frosted forests. With childlike wonder, I explored the University of Alaska Museum of the North, cataloging Native American artifacts, learning about the traditions of Inuit shamanism, and viewed inspiring artwork crafted by the native peoples of Alaska.

The Northern Lights

“... the Lights stretch out like an arm or an arc ahead, a blue green cloud amassing in front, expanding outward, then forming bands of milky green as they wish, undulating of their own accord like the whirl of a lasso or swirl of cream in a cup of coffee.”

Photo by Don Longhiao

The Northern Lights are not what I expected. Seeing pictures of fantastic lights dancing across the night sky is what I had hoped for like the explosive imagery proposed by so many magazines and photographers. In reality, it's a much different story. Most of the time, the Lights stretch out like an arm or an arc ahead, a blue green cloud amassing in front, expanding outward, then forming bands of milky green as they wish, undulating of their own accord like the whirl of a lasso or swirl of cream in a cup of coffee. I stood in awe of the natural phenomenon each night, feeling lucky to have witnessed the spectacular with my own eyes, yet ashamed that a small part of me felt a little disappointed, despite the blessings of the Aurora overhead.  Why isn't it it like any of the pictures I've seen? I snapped a few photographs with my camera phone, knowing that the quality would not be as great. After all, I did not have the funds this time around to buy the latest technology like the newest DSLR camera, but I thought I would see more with my own eyes.

"But perhaps, as with many things in life, there is the hidden beauty that you cannot always so easily see."

I certainly wasn't alone, as many travelers and friends I've made out here in Alaska can attest to this dismaying truth. However, the proof is in the pudding, or the camera so to speak. Those who had nice cameras boasted of great pictures filled with lights jumping up and down across the sky. I had been with the same people, at the same time of night, fighting icy eyewear and frostbite, and seeing the same strips of green they had. But looking at those pictures revealed another side of the great lights overhead. What could not be seen with the naked eye turned out to be electrified hues of emerald and lime and green apple. Vertical shimmers of light set against a blue backdrop in a moonlit sky. How beautiful and awesome they were! How is it a machine can observe what the human eye cannot? But perhaps, as with many things in life, there is the hidden beauty that you cannot always so easily see. Perhaps, it forces you to pause and contemplate another perspective. In fact, it became part of the mystery and the joy to see how an already awe inspiring natural phenomenon is made even more spectacular through a photograph, forged by trial and error camerawork between novice and expert. I now have a new appreciation for the Lights and hope that I can remember the lessons she teaches, to find the hidden beauty in every situation.