“The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars…”…
The Northern Lights dance above white-capped mountains in Iceland. Although this story takes place in the U.S., I spent a day writing about a beautiful mountain range.
It’s 2 a.m. My eyes are bleary, my arms and legs tender from a lack of sleep. My dog can hardly keep her head upright, whether she is indoors or out, and my man looks once more longingly at the sky, as I do. This is how we appear after a night of Aurora Chasing.
We saw the Aurora Borealis for the second time on the night of Feb. 18. We watched into the early morning of my late twin brothers’ birthday, on Feb. 19, 2014.