I've always lived in the south and east of England but had the privilege of seeing the aurora from inside a plane when I travelled to USA one time. It was amazing. We were surrounded by green and red dancing light. Your post has brought back this lovely memory, Sam, thank you.
You are such a wonderful writer. This was one of my favorite passages in your book. I read it slowly, one chapter a day, so I could slowly savor every word.
A beautifully written piece. I remember that wonderful display of the aurora in 2015 - I dragged the whole family outside to watch, and they grudgingly agreed it was worth it. The displays over the last wee while haven't been visible due to cloud cover (we live on the Black Isle so do get to see them fairly regularly). And I didn't know about the sound - thank you for that!
Yes, it was a really spectacular one! Helmsdale was under a thick haar that night and I had to walk right up the hill to see it, with the village hidden under a blanket of fog beneath me. The sounds are radio frequencies we can't hear, obviously, but if you have the right kind of antenna and receiver you can turn it into sound. It's kind of magical to hear it! Have you got the Aurora Alert UK app? It's really helped us remember to look out for it, as it's so easy to miss!
Thank you for sharing both your beautiful films and wonderful words. By chance, I recently took a walk in familiar woodlands after dark, it’s not really dark where I live, on the edge of the city, but it made me think very differently about the very familiar path I followed, your words express some of my feelings that evening.
Yes, walking familiar places in the dark makes them feel utterly different. And as a woman, walking alone after dark feels transgressive. We're always told not to, that it's not safe for us, that we should avoid it at all costs and if we must, go in groups. Or with a man. Which belies that fact that women are mostly in danger from men they know, not from strangers in the dark...
Thank you for sharing this - your words and the films. Exquisite. I was lucky enough to watch the Aurora Borealis about 20 years ago, rippling above a black winter field in North Yorkshire where I live. I've never forgotten it.
By coincidence, I started watching the dramatisation of Anthony Doerr's All the Light We Cannot See last night. I'm not sure about the dramatisation, but it made me think again about light and dark in these times. Just as your beautiful writing does now. Thank you. ✨
Oh I loved loved loved that book - almost too much to watch a dramatisation. There was so much in it that connected. My Dad was a radio amateur as a hobby as well as a BBC engineer all his working life, so when I wrote about darkness and light and electricity and radio it was in memory of him. He built his own radio antenna, and when I was a kid we'd take them up mountainsides to see what he could hear. I love this idea that we only see a tiny slice of the whole spectrum of light and that most light is invisible to our eyes.
it's worth getting the Aurora UK Alert app to let you now when to look out for one, as sometimes they are visible a lot further south.
I've always lived in the south and east of England but had the privilege of seeing the aurora from inside a plane when I travelled to USA one time. It was amazing. We were surrounded by green and red dancing light. Your post has brought back this lovely memory, Sam, thank you.
Wow, that must have been amazing @Yasmin Chopin!
It was surreal.
You are such a wonderful writer. This was one of my favorite passages in your book. I read it slowly, one chapter a day, so I could slowly savor every word.
Oh thank you Siobhan, You just made my day! I hope you have a lovely weekend 🤩
Beautiful, Sam. Our Pacific Northwest winters are cloudy, but I'm hoping for some clear nights.
A beautifully written piece. I remember that wonderful display of the aurora in 2015 - I dragged the whole family outside to watch, and they grudgingly agreed it was worth it. The displays over the last wee while haven't been visible due to cloud cover (we live on the Black Isle so do get to see them fairly regularly). And I didn't know about the sound - thank you for that!
Yes, it was a really spectacular one! Helmsdale was under a thick haar that night and I had to walk right up the hill to see it, with the village hidden under a blanket of fog beneath me. The sounds are radio frequencies we can't hear, obviously, but if you have the right kind of antenna and receiver you can turn it into sound. It's kind of magical to hear it! Have you got the Aurora Alert UK app? It's really helped us remember to look out for it, as it's so easy to miss!
Yes, I have the app, which as you say is helpful as a reminder to look outside 🙂 I've come to recognise the glow in the sky.
Thank you for sharing both your beautiful films and wonderful words. By chance, I recently took a walk in familiar woodlands after dark, it’s not really dark where I live, on the edge of the city, but it made me think very differently about the very familiar path I followed, your words express some of my feelings that evening.
Yes, walking familiar places in the dark makes them feel utterly different. And as a woman, walking alone after dark feels transgressive. We're always told not to, that it's not safe for us, that we should avoid it at all costs and if we must, go in groups. Or with a man. Which belies that fact that women are mostly in danger from men they know, not from strangers in the dark...
This subject is so important, Sam. I love the dark and wish that we all could feel confident walking out at night.
Magnificent, sacred beauty.Thank you for sharing.
Thank you for sharing this - your words and the films. Exquisite. I was lucky enough to watch the Aurora Borealis about 20 years ago, rippling above a black winter field in North Yorkshire where I live. I've never forgotten it.
By coincidence, I started watching the dramatisation of Anthony Doerr's All the Light We Cannot See last night. I'm not sure about the dramatisation, but it made me think again about light and dark in these times. Just as your beautiful writing does now. Thank you. ✨
Oh I loved loved loved that book - almost too much to watch a dramatisation. There was so much in it that connected. My Dad was a radio amateur as a hobby as well as a BBC engineer all his working life, so when I wrote about darkness and light and electricity and radio it was in memory of him. He built his own radio antenna, and when I was a kid we'd take them up mountainsides to see what he could hear. I love this idea that we only see a tiny slice of the whole spectrum of light and that most light is invisible to our eyes.
it's worth getting the Aurora UK Alert app to let you now when to look out for one, as sometimes they are visible a lot further south.