Colored Lines

I could never become bored with the beauty of the Northern Lights. The mystical ribbons of color dancing gracefully below the heavens, in rhythm with unheard music. Only on television and in images have I witnessed this amazing event. My heart longs to stand under the wide night sky and witness their dance - in person.

Admittedly, I know very little about longitude and latitude, only what I can remember from Junior High. I grew up in Redding, California - the very top of the CA valley and surrounded on three sides by significant mountain ranges. This area is way Northern California (most people say Nor Cal is San Fransisco. Yet, Redding is about 220 miles north of there.)

When I was around four years old, I recall my mom and dad saying good-night to friends who came over for dinner. They stood in the driveway as the cool night air rustled the leaves from the towering sycamore trees that lined our quaint and quiet street. I was supposed to be in bed, but my rebellious side was developing well, so I stepped outside onto the darkened front porch. I have always loved the sound the wind creates when it passes through the trees. In a clearing, I looked up to the darkest sky I had seen and was stunned by number of stars above. Then my young eyes witnessed something that, to this day, I can not explain or haven't seen since - "moving colored lines in the sky." I was mesmerized by them - yet at the same time, nervously glancing towards my parents who were talking with friends on the driveway - I shouldn't have been out of bed. In pure childlike wonderment, I watched the lines move aimlessly before the stars and desperately I wanted to reach up and grab them. Then my parents moved toward the house and I bolted inside, down the hall, and jumped into bed. They never knew I was there.

I carried this mystical image with me as I grew up. In ninth grade science class, we studied astronomy. Of course, we touched on the Aurora Borealis, a.k.a. "Northern Lights." My teacher said you can see this phenomenon in Canada, Alaska, and other extreme northern reaches of our hemisphere. Bravely, I raised my hand and asked if we lived far enough "north" to have them appear in our nighttime sky. It was explained that they are extremely rare in our area, but possible - particularly if there is a strong solar storm (wind).

As a little girl, did I really witness these dancing colors above? Or did my young mind imagine this scene? I don't know for sure. But what I believe to be true, after interacting with my memory, is that I saw the hand of God painting beautiful strokes of sparkling color across the sky just for me - a rebellious curly blond-hair girl standing on the front porch in a flannel nightgown - when I was supposed to be in bed. Maybe that was the early stages of my sensitivity to God's presence in the world - and in my life...

Before I enter eternity, I'd love to travel north and see His artwork first hand, with my own eyes. Again.

grace & peace ~ deAnn



2009 (c) deAnn Roe