The green light arrived while the valley slept. In this photo the aurora pours down over a snow-covered mountain like luminous smoke, folding once, twice, curling at the ends, while down in the valley a single farmhouse burns yellow against the blue. That tiny cluster of lights gets me every time. Someone is home. Someone is making tea, utterly unaware that the sky above their roof is performing the oldest light show on Earth. The aurora doesn't schedule itself around us. It happens whenever the sun throws a tantrum and the magnetic field catches the debris, and if you happen to be standing in a frozen field at one in the morning, congratulations, you get the front row. The mountain under the glow looks soft, almost painted, snow filling every fold of rock. Stars dot the deep blue above. And the farmhouse sits in all of it, small and stubborn and warm. I drove hours into the dark for this frame, fingers frozen on the shutter, and I'd do it again tomorrow. Some things are worth being cold for. This is the whole list. #auroraborealis #northernlights #winterfarm #nightsky
