A renewal of the beauty sigh

I get them just looking back at these photos, picking them out of Capture One to export for this blog post. Beauty sighs.

This night was about 10 days ago already, as I fall further behind. Night after night of intense beauty, but I remember the feeling, I remember the heaviness in my chest. It was almost just too beautiful. If it all lasted forever it would have been too short.

It was exactly the escape I talked about my post before. This is a beauty that frees you, that heals you, and the beauty sighs are just the quieter little physical manifestation of that.

These are the nights we dream of, and not every one is just this way. There have been messy nights in between - of longer drives, heavy cloud, and running between locations to keep up with clear breaks. But there’s a little of this kind of beauty and peace in all of this, in even those messy nights. It’s a part of this lifestyle I cherish so much.

A time to recharge

Lately, these nights just seem to pass me by. I’ve been consciously trying to soak up every last moment, every sweet forest smell, every ‘hoo-hoo’ from a distant owl, every moment of quiet conversation and laughter, and every last kilometre on the soft, quiet drives home.

Autumn has been so beautiful, and the nights have been my favourite. I feel in such awe every night and that’s really needed, from all the chaos of my days where I feel I don’t have a spare moment. It has taken me 3 nights just to get through the first episode of Survivor 49. My yoga mat has been abandoned more than makes me feel good. But the peace of the nights like this one are just everything. For a few hours, the stress of baking, emails, cleaning, and every other part of daily life, falls away.

I am exhausted beyond comprehension, but I’m so thankful for all of this. My mind and body yearn for slowness , but my heart is full.

Time to breathe

This was such a beautifully gentle night, which is one way to describe a quieter Yellowknife night. There was no rushing tonight, only all the time in the world to play with photography, star gaze, and relax into the night.

The aurora played with us a little bit early, and then slow built into a final show late where despite quiet conditions, she danced subtly above us before retreating north over the lake.

For all the highs of active nights, for the kind of chaotic beauty and pure excitement, I enjoy these almost more. They’re a perfect time to reflect and breathe, and just enjoy in a slower way.

Fall, finally

By the end of the night, our tripods were dripping with condensation. Lenses were foggy and clothing was unmistakably damp to the touch. Still, the temperature was comfortable enough for just a wool sweater and no mittens. Spending nights photographing the aurora bare handed is one of life’s true luxuries.

We aren’t yet free from forest fire smoke, but the cooler nights do feel good. These light clear sky chases and breathtaking hour after breathtaking hour of auroral activity all just feel heavenly.

A few degrees of separation

I’m a good week behind spectacular nights to blog right now, and as I looked back on this night to choose photos to blog, the thought of really missing the mountains of the Yukon fell heavy on me. I do miss it so much, and knowing entire mountainsides are yellow, orange and red with snowy peaks this time of the year doesn’t make it any easier.

The strongest call back to Yellowknife after those 3 years in the Yukon was needing to feel genuinely fulfilled in this again. So many nights in the Yukon, I would study the weather and chase down clear skies through the extensive highway infrastructure outside Whitehorse, but to be left with very, very quiet auroral displays, or sometimes no auroral activity at all. It repeatedly broke my heart, for myself and my guests. I struggled morally, so badly, with those kinds of nights. I hated feeling so close yet so far, with nothing more I could do. And it wasn’t just a few quieter than usual nights per year, it was far more often and it was killing me. It was the few degrees of separation in magnetic latitude between Whitehorse and Yellowknife relative to the aurora oval, and this I knew for sure.

“There is nothing better than escaping a terrible forecast.”

I wanted again to be in a place where I knew that if we could find clear skies, that we’d usually have the aurora waiting for us, or that we’d have a genuinely sound chance of still a beautiful auroral display, and that place really is Yellowknife. I knew it in my heart, but it was difficult to admit because I was building a life in Whitehorse and one I really, really loved. The decision of whether or not to come back to Yellowknife was clear, but difficult to come to terms with. For one of the first times in my life, I was making a purely cold hearted decision, emotions completely aside.

While this night a week ago wasn’t a drive of great distance, it did require a little shuffling around and ducking out of cloud. The hours that followed our final move were some of the most breathtaking I can remember.