Chasing the Lights

Chasing the Lights

By Laura Brady DePace

The space scientists say

There’s a chance to see the Aurora Borealis tonight.

Without going to Alaska,

Or Iceland,

Taking our chances on a flight,

Or daring a volcanic eruption.

So we drive North

Five hours

Chasing the Lights.

Vermont in March:

Magnificent isolation.

Snowy remoteness.

Emptiness; unnerving for one from the suburbs.

Forbidding, yet so very beautiful.

We march through the snow,

Icy path crunching beneath our feet,

Full moon lighting our way,

To arrive at the edge of the lake.

We face North

And watch.

We take pictures, because

Sometimes the camera catches

What the eye does not.

That’s what Facebook has taught us.

Beautiful night

Crystal clear water lapping the shore

The silence of snow

And Winter

In a place that does

Winter

So well.

Eleven thirty.

Midnight.

One o’clock.

Two.

The Aurora eludes us.

But we drink in the beauty

Of this night-time lake

And admire the stars

And the silvery moon.

And we think of coming here,

Again,

Chasing the Lights.