After the excitement from the second night, I was keen to try photographing the Northern Lights again, which brings us to our final night. We were lucky again with a perfectly clear evening, so the game was on. The Internet forecast for the lights once again left us with little hope, at a hard zero out of five possibility. Playing the odds here would not be smart, but I figure you have to be in it to win, so I made plans for us to go twenty minutes out of town and into a pine forest, and see if we could get some magic there.
Arriving at our destination, a small, cozy log cabin standing alone in the forest, we searched around for some interesting foregrounds, should the lights forget to read the forecast and appear. We were now ready for the lights in all directions. This having been done, we went back inside, and waited. And waited. And waited.
Just as we were getting ready to start packing up, I went outside for one last check. I had been out every five minutes for over two hours to check if the lights would appear, and had no real expectations of seeing anything, but better to check and be sure.
Once my eyes re-adjusted to the darkness, I saw the smallest, thinnest sliver of green not far from the horizon, just over the pine trees. Almost excited, I began taking some images. I set the camera to maximize the light and colour, and managed to get some images out that were decent given the near lack of the lights. In a two-minute swish, everything changed. The sky lit up a bright green, with purple, red and orange flames jutting out the side. It was extraordinary! The belt of green linked the opposite horizons, and turned the black, very cold night into a green, very cold night. I was running around to all the foregrounds I had found earlier and was shooting away, having an absolute blast, forgetting about the conditions.
Real life soon caught up with me, and the brisk thirty below temperatures started taking their toll. Unexpectedly, the camera was struggling before me. The glass on the front lens kept frosting up, and the controls on the camera were lagging, seriously lagging. It wasn’t long before the entire rig, camera, lens and tripod, started freezing solid. This signaled the end of the session, which gave me a chance to head back into the cozy cabin, and regain some of the feeling in my fingers and toes. You really learn to appreciate your digits after a couple hours out in the snow.