Not Such an Anticlimax as All That

Dearest Rachel –

I’m sure we’d seen the aurora borealis once or twice since the time we did on the night I proposed to you (and you took it as the heavens themselves blessing the moment, as I recall), but you’d think I’d be able to remember and point to the night, especially since it’s so rare that it comes far enough south for us to spot it from where we live. The thing is, no such moment other than that comes to mind – although it may very well be my fault for that, since I could (and still can) rarely stay up late enough to be awake when it appears in the sky, in any event.

Still, there was the thought that we might be able to see those northern lights on this trip, considering how far north we managed to travel. While we haven’t crossed the Arctic Circle (and I guess I never will, at this point, although I’m not entirely sure that’s a great loss, as I’m more into cities than nature, and there’s a lack of those this far up. Maybe someday, I’ll follow my parents’ footsteps up the coast of Norway, but I think that might require Megumi’s encouragement to do so), it did seem for more than a night or two that we might have the chance to observe the phenomenon.

Thus far, however, it’s been rather disappointing. The night after Qaqortoq seemed promising, especially given the clear and sunny day we’d spent in town, but by evening, we’d been enveloped in a fog that precluded any chance of seeing anything in the sky. Indeed, the sky was so thick with fog that for once, even the horizon wasn’t visible – a rare occurrence on any cruise I’ve been on. I’d say it made me hungry for pea soup, but given the dining options throughout the ship, that would be no more than a lie for comic effect, as there is always much tastier fare available than that.

Still, even as we made our way toward Labrador and Newfoundland, there was more than enough possibility that we might yet see the aurora at some point in time. The only challenge, as far as I was concerned, was whether I would be sufficiently awake to get a glimpse of it, if and when it deigned to grace us with its appearance.

Oddly enough, I think we managed, on the one night it happened. You’d think that, on a sea day, I would be so bored (if not tired from running around in port) that I would retire early for the night, like I almost always do. Certainly, I’ve been in bed before eleven just about every night on this trip, even days like last night, when we ‘fall back’ from crossing yet another time zone. For whatever reason, however, I decided to crack out one of the hard drives I store various media for just such an occasion, and binge watch some anime, rather than the usual YouTube videos.

I confess, I don’t do this like I used to, mostly since even the slice-of-life genres I tend to prefer just make me wish I had the protagonist’s life (which I don’t, I hardly need to tell you), so why rub my own face in it? For what it’s worth, “Alya Sometimes Hides Her Feelings in Russian” is a reasonably captivating title, which had both of us willing to work our way through the full series throughout the course of the afternoon and evening (we aren’t the type to hang out by the pool, and it’s too cold to do that, in any event). Indeed, since it ends before the student council election that things had been building up toward for several episodes (although it does conclude with the candidates’ speeches), there are more than enough loose ends to justify a second season, and pique the viewers’ interest in the same. Granted, we’ll probably have to wait for another year or so for that to happen – and we’ll probably forget all about it in the meantime – but I’d say it was worth the watch.

If nothing else, it allowed the two of us to be awake when a chime rang out in the room, but with no announcement following. Normally, the chimes can be heard through the door, followed by an announcement that sounds like it would be perfectly suited for a Charlie Brown television special. You know the sound I’m talking about; that unintelligible “wa-WAAH-wa” that the adults have in those shows. And in fact, the next thing we heard was the hall chime and that characteristic gobbledygook announcement, which prompted us to open our door to find out what was going on. After all, if they’re going to wake us up at a quarter to midnight with a chime in our rooms, it’s got to be something truly important.

And in a way, it rather was. The cruise director’s cheery voice informed the passengers at large that an aurora had been spotted aft of the ship (because we were heading almost due south, and therefore away from it) on the starboard side, and we needed to get topside if we wanted pictures. It seemed like an odd thing to be calling out to everybody about – especially given the chime that rang out in the room, which really should be reserved for emergencies, especially at that hour – but I suppose there are those who would, in fact, want to be woken up to catch this phenomenon.

And by the time we got to the upper decks, the place was swarming with people, getting their phones out to capture the light in the heavens. Ironically, for all the crowd, the topside lights seemed to have been cut to a bare minimum – which makes sense when you’re trying to see the lights in the sky, yes, but when you’re trying to find a vantage point without stumbling over furniture and other installations, it’s not particularly convenient. Eventually, though, we made our way to the miniature golf course on the thirteenth deck, and peered out into the darkness, to see…

…well, not much, to be honest. There was a dim glow in the distance, but none of the green curtains of light suspended from the heavens that you picture when you think of the aurora. I tried to film video of myself in front of the glowing sky, but in the viewfinder, all I could see behind me was darkness. There wasn’t any point in filming it further when there wasn’t anything to see behind me. I did, however, try my hand at a few photographs…

I’ve often described, with some frustration, how the camera doesn’t do a certain experience justice (even as words also manage to fail me in telling you about it as well). Upon looking more closely at these pictures, this may be a case of the opposite effect. Even as we were jostling for a good shot among dozens of others, only to see a disappointing glow in the distance in the moment, once you look at the picture, the green curtain is actually recognizable, especially in the second shot.

Maybe it’s just that I couldn’t see it when I was looking at it, and the camera brought it out in a way that I can’t perceive myself. I remember when we saw the aurora in the northwoods of Wisconsin, how it seemed a bit underwhelming at the time as well (but it was so unusual to be visible so far south, I let it slide). Maybe, like the camera, it’s something certain people can see better than I can; maybe you saw it with a greater intensity than I did. Or maybe it was just that you were taken up in the moment, while I was simply relieved that it had gone off with minimal hitches that I couldn’t take it in. But I don’t know why it seemed so anticlimactic last night as compared to the pictures I took of it. Maybe I just have trouble appreciating what’s in front of me.

With that being said, honey, I’ll have to ask that you continue to keep an eye on me, and wish me luck; I’m going to need it.