It was not that there were not things to see, with the minks and otters on the riverbank and the deer family cleaning up the apples from the yard, but once again my gaze was drawn to the sky with the possibility to view a storm causing what many call, Northern Lights.
Not that this would have been my first witness of an aurora; I have been fortunate enough to see a display while spending some time out of the country in Norway.
A seasonal occurrence in that part of the world, to view an aurora in the United States you are best suited in places like Alaska. But for one night, it was predicted that here in Washington, I would be able to witness them for the third time in my life.
Rated to be good on a scale from not visible to good, my wife, Angela, and I recalled our first encounter with friends in Norway remarking about the color and the spread of light.
"It was so green," said Angela, "It was spectacular," I confirmed.
We took up a spot facing east as suggested from the information that was running across social media, and waited, and waited, and waited, no lights.
We moved about the yard, trying every vantage point, looking in all directions in hopes of catching a glimpse.
We were not alone in our quest to try and witness the natural phenomenon; it seemed like others were having a party just across the river, or that could have been the Raymond Seagulls taking their second win in as many games over Chief Leschi, but still no color in the night.
We had hoped to marvel at the geomagnetic storm, but ended up just enjoying the night air and each other, away from the often-frantic weekend duties and chores.
With the salmon jumping just a hundred feet from my door, you would think that I would be spending my time trying to wrangle one in, but I'll save that for another time.
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Scot Pearson
Editor-in-Chief
Flannery Publications