It was a trip he'd been planning and saving for for the better part of a year. Like others from all over the world, a photography group from our city was going because the aurora in NWT was projected to be the best its been in 25 years, an unprecedented opportunity. It was all set, then a few months ago my son learned that he had to be eighteen to go with the group. He was devastated.
Fast forward to last week and there he stood, taking that shot while his dad slept nearby in a tent. My husband had taken a few days off work (which was tough to do given his crazy fall schedule), they'd packed camping gear, got up at 4 a.m., drove to Edmonton, flew to Yellowknife, rented a car and a canoe, then paddled out to a remote island not far away from where all of the professional photographers were camped. They stayed three nights and when they got home my sixteen year old had over 400 pictures of aurora.
I liked this one best. I told him it looked fake, like someone had taken a glow stick, cracked it open, and lobbed it at the sky. He grinned and said, "I know what you mean. The whole trip kind of felt like that. It was all real, but it felt unreal."