We didn’t see the northern lights last night.
But it wasn’t for lack of effort…and enthusiasm.
I followed the sites and the live blogs and the gurus and… my instincts…and loaded my family into the station wagon and,
we ordered subs, and waited…and waited …
then toted them to Lake Pinchot and looked out over the glass smooth water and watched three tiny canoes make their way slowly around the edges as the sky darkened and the clouds which had been hanging around all day drifted to the east…
then we drove back over the hill to Reesers and again…
in a long but happy line for our first raspberry cones of the season
while over our shoulders the sun set behind the last of those clouds,
and then as the sky darkened we drove
up hills and down
trying to find the best…and safest…vantage point to view the majesty
but as nothing seemed to fit the bill
and the sky was mostly…dark
we circled ever closer
I ended up sitting in the studio yard
wrapped in woolen wear
worrying that I had missed the show.
Sue, next door, and Pat were both smarter than I
and were inside at their computers researching just how and where and when
these colors would best be viewed.
So, when they called me on the phone in my woolen pocket
I heeded their pleas and came home into the warmth
and plugged into an online blog party of local skywatchers
who were progressively…albeit geekily…souring on the possibilities for Pennsylvanians
to be in the path of the lights.
I checked every fifteen minutes.
I listened to both my girls snoring happily.
I watched The Killing Fields.
I made it to the first full hour of this Sunday morning.
Then I signed off and tuned out.
The best parts…
we had a fun, if unexpected, date night.
We know all the highest points in our neighborhood.
Our little community came together and enjoyed some social networking time.
And I remain hopeful.
it’s all about the journey.