“I saw the Northern Lights for the first time tonight.”

The closest thing I have seen to magic.

Hello, I’m Rebecca, a hobby wildlife photographer from Scotland who loves nature and going on adventures across the country. This space is for quests, comfort, wildlife, and somewhere you can pause for a quiet moment.

I’m currently sitting in my living room, feet up, and on a co-writing call with The Substack Soiree. This is the first time I have joined one. I joined because I had an idea in mind for a post, but didn’t know where to start. I’ve had a bit of a block the last few weeks, and rather than writing, I have been taking the time to feel inspired, relax, and simply enjoy the time going by. But now I am ready to write again. So it is perfect that this call has come up!

This post is part of the ‘Iron Chef’ challenge where you are given a prompt and have to write a post in 90 minutes. You have no idea how happy I was seeing that the prompt is “The closest thing I’ve seen to magic…” I didn’t even think a second had gone by when I knew right away what I wanted to write about.

I want to share the first time I saw the Northern Lights.

It happened earlier this year, deep in winter, when I visited Iceland for the first time. I had patiently waited for years to visit the land of ice and fire, but my fear of flying always held me back. But this year it was time to stop being afraid, and I finally saw the Northern Lights.

I wrote in my Notes app on my phone, on the 5th of March 2023 just before midnight “I saw the Northern Lights for the first time tonight” and that was it. It was a simple sentence, but one that captured every emotion I felt. I finally saw the Lights that I have been obsessed with since I was a young child. I love winter. I love the Arctic. I feel a deep connection to snow-capped mountains, icy terrain, Arctic creatures, Norse mythology, everything. Winter is home. And I always associate winter with the Northern Lights. So I had to see them in my lifetime. I just had to.

I was sitting on the couch in our cabin, the wall-heater encasing me in a cuddle of heat after being out in minus temperatures all day. I had turned off most of the lights, and my partner was sitting next to me constantly checking his phone. “I hope there’s lights tonight” is what he kept saying. We had stayed up later the last two nights hoping for a glimpse of the otherworldly magic but with no success. I said we’ll wait until 11pm just to be sure. I stopped checking the apps and social media and decided to walk around the cabin with the lights off, trying not to fall over the tables and chairs and my own feet. I looked out the small window in the kitchen where the volcano Eyjafjallajökull (a very fun name to say once you get the hang of it!) majestically loomed in the background covered in snow. I looked slightly to the left where I knew it was north and thought…wait, is that a green light? 

I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me. “Graham, come here” I said and he shot up from the couch, promptly hitting himself off the table and chairs. “Is that…it?” I asked and he replied, “THAT’S THEM, THAT’S THEM GO.” I’m still unsure what he really meant by saying “GO” like it was a race, but still!

Within a minute, I was outside in the cold but I could not feel it on my skin. I also had my camera in my hand and the tripod set up. I can’t even remember setting it up, to be honest with you, I was just that excited and my brain was freestyling. Clutched on top of my head was the beanie I bought earlier that day covered in Puffins with a comically large pom-pom jousting from side to side as I ran out of the cabin. Pyjamas and a hoodie were my only clothing in minus temperatures. But who cares about that? There’s Northern Lights! I’ll worry about the temperature later.

Green pillars were just starting to form, the show was only just beginning. The sky was dancing with green spirits and they were getting stronger and stronger. My excitement began to calm itself, and the camera was ticking away in the background getting timelapses and photos. I watched my breath come out of my mouth in a white mist, and I was able to finally understand the magic I was seeing.

The Northern Lights. The Aurora Borealis. She was here. I finally saw this magical spirit dance. I had no thought in my head, only awe and tears welling up in my eyes. “She’s beautiful” is all I could say. Graham and I looked at each other and immediately started to giggle. We’d finally seen the Northern Lights illuminating the sky. We were here in Iceland and they were above us. I clutched his hand and we both stared at the wonderful sky. The Lights danced slowly with shades of green lighting like a beacon. Red shades would materialise and then shift away. Light would fade, and then a moment or two later she would appear again. The green lines across the sky would elongate, looking like they were trying to reach other destinations themselves. Maybe they were? They looked like they were reaching across to the ocean, almost as if they needed to touch the water of Earth.

The Vikings believed that the Northern Lights were the reflections of Valkyrie’s armour as they led warriors to Odin. Other Nordic stories also say the aurora was the breath of brave soldiers who died in combat. I did think to myself, for the people who lived all those years ago when science was not known, what did they think when they saw green lights in the sky? The fact that the Vikings saw the Lights as a message from their Gods shows the wonder and enthrallment they hold.

The Lights stayed for almost an hour before they completely faded away. They decided their dance was over for now. I just remember lying in bed that night, my feet and legs freezing as my body finally realised it was cold after being outside for so long not feeling it. And all I could do was smile. That’s when I reached for my phone and wrote “I saw the Northern Lights for the first time tonight.” I didn’t need to write anything else. That magic had captured my heart and no further words or messages were needed. I put my phone on the cabinet, rolled over and fell asleep. Who knows, maybe when I was sleeping the Lights showed up again for another dance. 

The Northern Lights don’t have voices, but I’m almost sure that I could hear them singing that night.

Have you ever seen the Northern Lights? What’s the closest thing to magic you have seen?

Take care,
Rebecca