It all started yesterday early afternoon when I noticed a lot of chatter on Facebook about potential aurora borealis that night.

Apparently the indicator numbers were good, and if it weren’t for that pesky 3/4 moon coming up early in the evening there would almost certainly be a spectacular show.

So many times I’ve seen notices of potential northern lights and so many times I’ve decided it wasn’t worth the 4+ hour drive over to the western side of Michigan on the off chance there might be a show.
So many times I’ve kicked myself when I see images posted the next day of what I might have seen if I’d gone.

So this time I decided to just take the chance. I left home at 5 p.m. and was at a dark sky park at Port Crescent in the thumb of Michigan, along Saginaw Bay, by 7:30.
Of course there’s no guarantee that the lights will show up. Or when they might show up. What was guaranteed was the arrival of the moon, about 9:30 which would wash any borealis out.

As you can tell, I sat on the beach and watched the sun set, and then I went back to the car, changed camera lenses, got the camera all ready to go with manual settings and attached to a tripod and snuggled down with a pillow and a blanket to wait for full dark.

I was pretty antsy and never did take a nap. I was worried that I’d be sleeping in my car on one side of the dunes while the light was dancing out over the bay on the other side!

So as soon as it was close to dark I was out of the car and heading for the dunes. There were plenty of other people already out there, so I found a spot between photographers and decided to practice my Milky Way star focus skills while I waited. After all the moon wasn’t up yet, and I could see the Milky Way right there…even though I wasn’t thrilled with the composition, it was better than sitting around doing nothing.

And in the middle of my second shot, with me and my camera facing south I heard the woman just down the path from me begin to squeal. I couldn’t turn my camera around fast enough, and when I did this is what I saw.

Well, not exactly saw, because to the naked eye it was just this moving mass of grey out over the black lake. But the camera saw it for what it was, stunning pink and green light.

The woman next to me told her family, “See?! Aren’t you glad I dragged you out here for this!” I didn’t hear the kids’ answers, but I’m pretty sure everyone out there last night was glad they were there.

I kept clicking as fast as I could, trying different fstops, and shutter speeds. At one point I must have accidently touched the focus ring because I have a whole lot of images that are totally out of focus.
I’m not going to show you those. Just know it happens to all of us.

Luckily I knew enough to check the focus on occasion, so I was able to salvage the rest. Mostly.
After about 20 minutes over my right shoulder I noticed different light. It was the most beautiful, huge, orange 3/4 moon, creeping up through the limbs of a tree.

I wished I had my other lens on the camera (but it was back at the car). I wished I had two cameras going. But there was no time, so I kept focusing on those lights out over the water, knowing they’d soon be fading.

The moon crept higher and higher, and the lights began to fade. People began to leave, shining their flashlights in my face and into my frame as they climbed the dune to head back to the parking lot. I was loathe to go, the warm summer night and soft breeze off of the lake complimented the extraordinary sight of the lights dancing and shooting pillars up higher and higher in the sky.

I didn’t leave until the color faded away, and then I reluctantly put the lens cap back on and started down the dune toward the car.
Lots of people were still walking out over the dunes, headed to the beach. Every group stopped me, a person obviously carrying a fancy camera and a tripod, to ask if I’d seen anything.
I couldn’t begin to describe what I’d just experienced. I just told them all it had been wonderful but had faded now.

I encouraged them all to go out to the beach anyway and stand under the stars to admire the beautiful moon. Most of them did.
As for me? I’m so glad I took a leap of faith and went north to see the lights. I’m so glad I didn’t nap the evening away in my car. I’m so glad the lights decided to cooperate and dance for those 20 or 30 minutes before the moon encroached on our party.

And I’m forever grateful to my Milky Way teacher for instilling in me the confidence to stand by myself (along with 20 or 30 other photographers, all strangers, but all united in one goal) out under the stars and appreciate what I see overhead.
I haven’t stopped smiling since I heard that first squeal and turned to watch the magic explode above us.

Lessons learned: Don’t think about things too much, just go. Bring bug spray. Long pants and sturdy shoes are a must. Check your focus regularly. Don’t forget to stop and internalize the experience, it’s not all about the pictures. Encourage everyone else to stand out under the stars at least once.
And now I’m encouraging you. If you get the chance…just go.