The Lights of Aurora Borealis

The Aurora Borealis – those dazzling lights that dance in the Arctic Circle’s nocturnal skies – became somewhat of a Rorschach test of myths over the centuries. The Vikings believed these were radiant Valkyries escorting fallen heroes to Valhalla. The Sámi tribe said these crystalline beams could reach down and slice off your head. The Finns, on the other hand, spun a sweeter yarn concerning the tulikettu – an elusive firefox whose sparkling tail ignites the icy heavens. Any soul lucky enough to catch this celestial canine is bestowed with fortune and fame. As I shall be gazing upon the Northern Lights myself in only seven days, I wonder if I should be so lucky.

I’m travelling from Akureyri, Iceland to the tree-like fjord system of Scoresby Sund, where Aurora Borealis is said to glow especially bright. Over the course of our glacial voyage aboard Plancius, an oceanographic research vessel flying the Dutch flag, I hope to take in all the indigenous wonders this vast canvas of sapphire and ice has to offer.

On our second day at sea, I suddenly hear a clamour of ohhs and ahhs from my fellow passengers. Looking to where they are pointing over deck, I sight the wing-like tail of a Humpback whale crash into the navy ocean.

We disembark in Clavering Ø, a large island in eastern Greenland. In 1823, a German expedition team came in contact with the last surviving Inuit in this area. By the time Europeans returned a few years later, the tribe had altogether vanished. With the Inuit gone, muskox returned. Today these shaggy beasts, dubbed ‘the bearded one’ by natives, are found all over Greenland.

It isn’t until the following day however that we spot our first yoke of muskoxen grazing in the stark tundra terrain of Cape Hofmann Halvø. That evening we continue to sail through beautiful fjords. Around us is a snow-dusted landscape choked with jagged icebergs that glitter like giant diamonds in the rough.

As night rises on the seventh day, the inky sky begins to flicker and pulsate in an emerald haze. At last, Aurora Borealis. The longer I stare into its other-worldly luminescence, the more my eyes are drawn to a jewel box of ephemeral hues – pearlescent plumes, ruby flames, swirls of magenta. I may not leave the Arctic Circle with any sudden surge in fame, but richer in indelible ways I most certainly am.

This travelogue originally appeared in Living Wow magazine issue 2.