A Bit of Magic

I’m the one who tears up the easiest. Not proud of this, though.
But my crying follows a pattern. It’s always about people. Well, fictional sometimes, but still.
And here I was now. Out in the open, staring at the sky, feeling so small. Touched by nature. Me, the ultimate city girl, who would always trade a few days by a lake for an afternoon in a bustling metropolis.
Sure, there are things in the nature that seem interesting, but somehow never make it to the top of your bucket list. For me, that was seeing the northern lights. I believed, however, that Aurora Borealis happens to other people, those heaps luckier than I am.
Life made sure to erase my skepticism in one stroke of the brush. I found myself studying in Finland, and before I knew it, I set off to the far north to experience a harsh winter and all of its perks.
I’m not sure if I can call that night calm. The cold was scratching my face, and the sound of the wind was upsetting, to say the least.
While there's a lot of luck involved in seeing Auroras, in the sense that one can spend an entire week in the north and not see any because of little solar activity or clouds, it also means that you will most probably know if you’ll be seeing any on that particular day. If the solar and weather forecasts say so, you will stand pretty good chances. That was my case. I would, however, prefer to think there was a bit magic there.
Because that’s how it all felt when a single whitish stripe appeared low in the sky. Your eyes are used to the dark and you’re not really sure if it’s real or it’s in your head. It twists and turns slowly, reminding you of a timid girl’s dance. It starts growing, it moves across the sky. It’s white and green. That is also the moment you realize the photos you’ve been seeing all your life are made with professional cameras that capture more than the eye; but this one you’re seeing is no less beautiful, because it’s real. It’s all yours; it dances and grows and makes you feel you witness something from another world. You almost forget to breathe. There’s nothing else in the world except you and the Aurora.
That’s when I cried.
We keep listening about stepping outside of the comfort zone. This was it, in its rawest form. I know Aurora can be accurately described by laws of physics. I’m a believer of science. Yet I’m also a believer of little wonders, and this was one. I no longer determine myself as a city dweller. I go where my feet take me. I’m searching for magic everywhere.