Northern Night

Alisha paced before the hearth with its blazing fire, trying to warm herself. Her thermal undershirt, long-sleeve shirt, flannel shirt, and two sweatshirts hadn’t warded off the chill as she trudged through drifts after school. How long would it take to acclimate to the harsh Alaskan winter? Alisha crossed to the window and glanced at the thermometer. It was twenty below outside. She wondered if her layers would be sufficient to see the display of northern lights tonight.

“Tomorrow, I’ll buy a parka,” Alisha promised herself, heaving the solid cedar door open. Descending the snow-covered steps, Alisha was grateful for the rain boots she’d brought with her when they moved. Eventually, her feet would numb, but the galoshes covered her ankles, so the snow didn’t soak her immediately.

She caught glimpses of light flashing through a stand of hemlock. The northern lights? She couldn’t be sure. She’d have to navigate through the trees to the clearing for the best view. The snow thinned where boughs sheltered the ground, and Alisha stamped on the solid ground to restore her circulation. Light still danced among the branches, and Alisha glanced up to determine its source. Before her were tiny creatures with dazzling wings. They weren’t fireflies. She’d done a report once on fireflies before they moved and had discovered Alaska was not their native habitat.

Alisha paused in her trek to watch the mesmerized movement—too mesmerized to feel startled as the insects circled closer until they encompassed her neck like a multicolored scarf. She snuggled into the strange glow, no longer feeling the chill of the Arctic air.

Reluctant to leave, she lingered, forgetting the northern lights, knowing she should return to the safety of the cabin.

Brilliant bits of color greeted Alisha as she opened her eyes. She struggled to focus. A rainbow through the cabin window? Not likely; it hadn’t rained. Her grandmother’s quilt, tousled? A vague recollection flitted at the edges of her memory.