The Aurora wasn’t even the coolest part

As the sun began to set Friday evening, I sat on the quad in front of our library playing with friends and observing the sparse clouds glow with an incredible orange bloom. The moon, only a small crescent, began to appear above a large tree. It was cold, but a nice Friday evening after a long week of classes and projects. Throughout the day I posted to Instagram and Twitter, sharing the hope that we, in Exeter, New Hampshire, would see the aurora borealis tonight. Only a few friends took interest as I showed them photos from across Europe. Some took an interest in the science and asked how and when we could see them.

I attempted to get a photo on campus of our historic academy building, which has connections back hundreds of years to the school’s inception in 1781, a few months ago when we had aurora potential. Alas, I came up empty but poised ready for the next opportunity.

As darkness fell, I packed up my Canon R5 and 16-35 mm lens and drove about 10 minutes north to Newmarket, a town with less light pollution and a boat ramp that led to a wide-open marsh looking north. My best chances were to look north and Newmarket was a prime spot. It turns out that I was not the only one with the idea. Shortly after I arrived, another car pulled in and parked; getting out the occupants pulled out their phones and gazed upwards and around them in awe. In the following 30 minutes, more cars arrived, my phone was blowing up with texts from friends on campus and around the northeast. A police officer even pulled in and fearing he might tell us to leave, I started to think of alternate locations. I don’t know the rules behind being on boat launches at 10 pm on a Friday, but as he approached he said, “This is so cool isn’t it! I’m going to get my phone, this is rad.”

Not long after, the International Space Station, with seven members on board, began to rise from the southeast into the red aurora that loomed in that part of the sky. The crescent moon I observed earlier was nearly set, but still visible above the tree line. I pointed up and announced to the crowd around me, “Look, it’s the ISS! That white dot!”

“No way!” Multiple people responded. Shifting to get a better composition without cars, I captured two photos of the bright ISS as it passed overhead. Through all of it, I took a moment to wave and take in the reality of what I was witnessing. Seven people on a small white light travelling through an unimaginably colorful sky were visible from this small boat launch in New Hampshire. The aurora brought a dozen or so people to this area. How they decided to come here or even how they found out I have no idea, but somehow the color in the night sky landed us at this spot in this time and gave me a similar outlook on humanity that I found during the eclipse.

Upon seeing some friends’ photos from campus, I remembered my attempt a few months ago to capture our academy building, which holds the assembly hall and a variety of subjects, with the aurora. Quickly, I raced back to campus, knowing this show would last a while, but unsure to what extreme. Parking on an empty street, I hurriedly grabbed my tripod and camera and ran down the sidewalk to center the building in the frame. The lights were incredibly bright compared to the sky, so I took three exposures at varying lengths to capture the building, sky, and surroundings in great detail. What shocked me most was the rapid changing of the pink, green, and purple hues between each photo.

However, as I sat taking photos, a man approached me from down the sidewalk on my right. We made eye contact, surprisingly not awkwardly, and he remove his earbuds presenting my with a puzzled look on his face.

“Getting a good shot, I see,” he said.

“Yeah! The sky is just so colorful,” I responded.

“Huh? [pause] Oh my god. I didn’t even notice.”

For the next 10-15 seconds, we both gazed at the dancing pink and purple, mouths open and eyes peeled. He began to ask questions about why it was happening and why we could see it in Exeter. Our conversation only lasted a few minutes, but he told me that he just came back from a retirement party for a dear friend of a local business. “This night has been so special and what a way to cap it off. Thanks for the chat, I’m glad I looked up,” he said before we parted ways.

This interaction left me with profound joy and gratitude. We live in an era where news spreads quicker than ever before and anyone can take a photo in seconds with the device in their pocket. I spend much of my time communicating science topics and other activities through photos and words on the internet, but talking with a stranger on the side of the road at 10:30 pm is the purest form of education and inspiration.

My feed has been flooded with photos of aurora from all across the world for 24 hours now, just as the sky was flooded with color last night. As the sun rose this morning while I peacefully slept the late night off, the curtains closed on the magical night and all that reminds are thousands of images and even more memories from a historic astronomical event. In just over a month, humanity has witnessed two spectacular wonders of our solar system. Hopefully, you have been inspired, learned more about the rock we live on, and will forever be grateful for our magnetic field.