Twice last week I was caught off guard by the aura of the Aurora Borealis — AKA, the northern lights. The rare natural phenomenon usually occurs much closer to the north and south poles of Earth and are caused by solar winds being repelled away from the planet thanks to our magnetosphere. 

I am a sucker for a good photo op, and getting the chance at taking a photo of something you usually need to be in Alaska, Canada or Norway for fits that opportunity. However much I like being ready for any photo op, I often forget to keep my professional camera at my side and ready to go at a moments notice. Last week was two of those times.

The first was Sunday night, Oct. 6. I was at the office doing some prep work for the next production day when I was notified the lights could be seen as far south as Darlington. I grabbed a tripod from next to my desk and bolted for the door — forgetting my expensive camera. I drove up to northwestern Green County near the borders of Lafayette and Dane. 

With nothing more than a hoodie and headphones to keep warm, I hung around outside my car while my iPhone 15 was attached to my tripod, trying to get whatever images it could. 

I turned down my light settings, because the stars were so bright and I really wanted to make them pop without much of the other light noise. Doing so, my phone’s camera picked up a lot of the green from the northern lights. One of my favorite shots was a one of sheer luck — I had my settings on a 10-second delay, then a 10-second timer to draw in the light. Without the moon and very little artificial light nearby, I touched “take picture” and dashed into the recently plowed cornfield in front and stood arms-wide. The final result was a silhouette of me perfectly framed with the Big Dipper — bright as ever — just over my head, but low on the horizon. I was giddy at the cool shot made with very little planning. I have a saying in the office that makes people chuckle, and it’s, “Things just seem to work out for me.” Well, little things, like photos of myself at night, and not really awesome things, like a Powerball jackpot.

As luck would have it, I would no more share a set of photos on Facebook (both with the Times and on my personal page), and our local star was blessing us with another show.

The very next night, about 24 hours later, I returned home from a long day at the office. While walking my dog before bed — and just two blocks from our house, I noticed a wide, red flare behind one of the nearby homes from the sidewalk.

“Look Duke, more Halloween lights,” I said to my nearly 2-year-old dog, who likes to growl and bark at Jack-O-Lanterns and blow-up decorations. Except the red streak wasn’t from a colored spotlight, instead it was the northern lights again — and this time, much brighter. We had been walking for 25 minutes and I didn’t notice them until two minutes from home.

I walked to an opening by the Fairgrounds and holding my phone as still as possible, caught some absolutely breathtaking images.

Once I got inside, I woke up my wife and said, “The northern lights are out. Get up, let’s go.” Fun little date night, right?

Whilst once again forgetting my expensive professional camera (and tripod, at that), we headed out to the countryside yet again. This time I didn’t drive almost 30 minutes away, however. I just went a few miles north of Monroe and parked just off the road on County FF. This time the flares were fully noticeable to the naked eye. Standing in amazement and watching the lights dance is mind-tingling by itself, but capturing them with my iPhone were somehow even more breathtaking. (Also, let’s just stop for a minute and acknowledge how amazing it is that these cameras on little hand-sized computers/phones have developed over the years. It’s absolutely incredible). 

The sky on Monday night was mesmerizing on several different fronts — not only were the northern lights out, the moon had set, the dry, cold air again made the stars pop, Orion and his belt were just lifting off the eastern horizon and the Big Dipper was nearly hidden from both the auroras and the leftover artificial light glowing from Madison some 30 miles to the north-northeast. 

I adjusted my camera settings to default lighting, but bumped the shutter to allow for 10-30 seconds to maximize light this time. The results were spectacular (well, for me).

Not only did I capture the same silhouette of myself and Courtney with red, yellow and green auroras bouncing in the background, but I was able to catch clean images of the Milky Way, star clusters and a nearby galaxy not normally visible to the naked eye.

It’s no wonder why ancient civilizations across the globe used to worship the sun — not only does it make daytime warm enough to not need a parka year-round (and its rays lead to photosynthesis, allowing plants to grow so animals and humans can eat) but it makes for really cool sunrises/sunsets, eclipses and auroras. Thank you, our great and glorious celestial overlord!

This week wasn’t my first time dealing with the northern lights — not in the slightest. This past winter/spring there was another huge solar flare event, and I captured some stunning images from hilly back roads out by Albany. 

In 2016, I remember meeting my friend up in Manitowoc for drinks the night before the Badgers played LSU at Lambeau Field, and the northern lights were dancing the whole way up.

In 2004 up in college, I got back to my 18th-floor dorm room in Milwaukee extremely late one night and could see nature’s light display and promptly called home to wake my dad and tell him. He said it was cloudy, but I also think he just wanted the extra sleep.

A few years before that my family was in Alaska in February (why anyone else would choose that time of year eludes me) and with temps in the mid-teens below zero we watched the bright green, yellow and white lights send us their Valentine’s from directly overhead.

One of these days the bright colors will return on a weekend or a non-school night, and I will wake my children from their slumber so they can complain aloud while I stare in awe. 

Perhaps that will happen already this weekend, as I received a notice about yet another large flare headed this way. Those bright flares make me want to word associate to Ric Flair and belly out a big ol’ “Woooooo!” Like the Nature Boy, the Aurora Borealis are world champions in my book.

— Adam Krebs editor of the Monroe Times and can be reached at editor@themonroetimes.com.