Those who dwell among the beauties and mysteries of the earth, are never alone or weary of life.

— Rachel Carson

I have never rafted down the Colorado River or gone swimming with dolphins; held a koala or zip lined across tree tops. But I have witnessed the Northern Lights. Twice.

Known to scientists as auroras, they are natural light displays in the sky usually seen at night.

In northern latitudes like ours, the effect is known as the aurora borealis, named by Pierre Gassendi in 1621 after the Roman goddess of dawn, Aurora, and the Greek name for the north wind, Boreas.

They appear chiefly as arcs, clouds, and streaks and are most commonly green. Some move, brighten, or flicker. Auroral displays are associated with the solar wind, a continuous flow of electrically charged particles from the sun. When these particles reach the earth’s magnetic field, some get trapped, many traveling toward the earth’s magnetic poles. When the charged particles strike atoms and molecules in our atmosphere, energy is released.

Auroras occur most frequently during the most intense phase of the 11-year sunspot cycle. During this phase, dark patches on the sun’s surface, called sunspots, increase in number. Violent eruptions on the sun’s surface, known as solar flares, are associated with sunspots. Electrons and protons released by solar flares add to the number of solar particles that interact with the earth’s atmosphere.

It was the summer of 1979 and I was vacationing with my fiance’s family in northern Idaho when I saw my first aurora. Hearing there would be a display that night, we spread sleeping bags out on the grass and the entire group laid out under the stars with great anticipation. Enticed by a clear sky and the warm air of summer, we laughed and visited with each other until the first streaks of green flashed above in the shape of enormous ribbons. The utter beauty and complete silence that accompany such an event hushed our youthful craziness and stay with me and my husband to this day.

The second aurora I viewed occurred one early morning here on Whidbey as I walked with my dear friend Jane. Less ribbon-like than the one I had seen before, this aurora glowed green and covered a significant portion of the morning sky, in the direction of the base. So stunning was the scene we stopped. Only then did I realize exactly what we were looking at and we experienced it as a wonderful gift, making our early morning foray even more meaningful.

I like knowing the scientific explanation for such heavenly shows, but I like even more the effect they have on my life. I store among my memories these events, the feelings of awe and excitement, the wonder and the greatness of the Hand that creates them. These moments do not disappear; they serve one’s heart and spirit when life feels hard and discouraging.

Ralph Waldo Emerson once wrote that the sky is the daily bread of the eyes. When the fog lifts let’s look up. Let’s look up to the One who created it all and gifts us with sights intended to feed the soul.

Reach Faithful Living columnist Joan Bay Klope at faithfulliving@hotmail.com.