My adventures on the trail took place a long time ago – before Wi-fi, Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram. In those days in Alaska, finding Internet access at each landing was a challenging  adventure, to say the least. I usually found it at a school, a community center or in the home of  some kind and friendly folk. On a quiet night at the Ruby checkpoint, I experienced a magical moment that I carry with me to this day. At 10:30 PM, I first saw the Northern Lights. 

As I was approaching my temporary home, a pint-sized log church on the hill, I saw a green haze  accumulating above me. I noticed Native children sitting on a log, looking up at the sky. I heard them giggling and whistling gingerly. They saw me and invited me to sit with them.  

I asked, “What is this green haze and where does it come from?” Each child greeted my question  with a bewildered look.  

“It’s the Northern Lights approaching!” they told me. 

Sure enough, the green haze had gathered in ribbons of unhurried movement. The children began  whistling softly and in disbelief, I saw the ribbons dance faster. At first, I thought I must be over  tired from 18 hours of adventure, writing and visiting. But, when the children stopped the harmonics of their whistling, the ribbons suspended movement. I sat in awe of the magical effect  in the moment. The children then invited me to whistle with them. We continued to play with  this inexplicable phenomenon – making the lights dance, then stop, then dance again. Eventually,  the ribbons faded and floated away.  

Did we truly engage with this extraordinary phenomenon? To this day, I believe we did. What I  know is that the experience taught me not to question the magical moments in life. I revisit this  experience I had on the trail on days when I feel deeply affected by the turmoil of the human  world. Nature has always had a way of calming my soul.