
The northern lights came last night.
Not the way I always imagined. Not wild or brilliant or loud. Not the kind they write postcards about or chase across Icelandic skies. These came soft. Unannounced. Almost hesitant. Like maybe the sky forgot it was allowed to be beautiful here too.
It started with a haze—green stitched across the clouds like breath. A red glow spilling out near the edges. Faint. Fainter than the photos. But I could see them.
With my own eyes.
Not through glass or lens or screen.
Just me. And the sky. And the dark.
And a kind of light I didn’t know I needed.
I’ve wanted to see the northern lights for as long as I can remember. It’s been one of those “someday” things, tucked onto a dream list I rarely say out loud. I always pictured them bold—exploding across a frozen sky in a place far from here. I always thought I’d have to go chasing them. Far. Cold. Alone.
But they came here.
To this farm.
To this quiet stretch of November.
To this version of me I’m still learning how to carry.
And maybe they weren’t loud. Maybe they weren’t the grand, breathtaking show I always pictured.
But still—they came.
And I saw them.
And it moved something in me.
Because we’re six weeks from a new year.
And I don’t know how I feel about that yet.
There’s been so much ache this year. So many days where the silence got too loud. So many moments where I felt like I was watching the world move and burn and spin without me. I’ve been holding a lot. Letting go of more. Some things I’m still not ready to name.
But last night, just for a moment,
the sky reminded me that not everything is lost.
That even faint light still counts.
That beauty doesn’t have to be loud to be real.
That wonder can still find me, even here, even now.
I still want to see the Iceland lights someday.
The big ones. The unforgettable ones.
But maybe I needed this kind first.
The quiet kind.
The kind that shows up when you stop expecting it.
The kind that doesn’t fill the whole sky, but still fills you.
And maybe, just maybe, that’s enough for right now.