Light show just another reason to live here

Resslin' Around, by Casey Ressler

The phone started ringing early on a recent cold evening. The temperatures were dipping close to single digits, and the stars seemed a little brighter. The recipe for a great show of northern lights couldn't have been better, and they certainly didn't disappoint.

As bright red streaks shot across the winter sky, the phone rang again, this time from my parents. "You have to go out and see the northern lights. It's the best show I think I've seen since we moved here 20 years ago," my mom said. A flame of yellow started dancing in front of my eyes as soon as my wife hung up the phone. It rang again, this time from a friend, telling us we just had to catch the northern lights, because he hadn't seen anything like it in 10 years up here.

The scene unfolded at homes around the Valley all night, I'm sure. The aurora borealis really was impressive that night, although I can't say it was the best I had ever seen. One year, while covering the Iditarod, the show in the sky was downright unbelievable. The mercury in the thermometers was down to minus-45, and the lights in the sky that night almost defied belief. When mushers checked into McGrath that night, they didn't talk about the leaders, the weather or their dogs. They kept talking about the show they were privileged to see in the sky that night. The funny thing was that was the only thing everybody else in the checkpoint was talking about, too. I knew I was spoiled, or lucky, depending on how you saw it.

The northern lights are but one thing Alaskans have that not many other people do. And it is nice to know that we don't take things for granted, like we probably could.

Every time I'm on my way to go fishing, driving north on the Parks Highway, the amazement hits me. After coming around one bend in the highway just north of Talkeetna, a giant, looming mountain appears, ready to swallow you up.

"My God, Mount McKinley is frickin' huge," I tell whoever is with me that morning. "I don't remember it being that big." Of course, the last time we saw it was usually the weekend before, and I said the exact same thing. But that's my point -- even as a lifelong Alaskan, there are still spectacles that I cherish, every time I see them.

Mount McKinley's imposing size, the northern lights, Pioneer Peak's presence in the Valley and the view from Hatcher Pass are just a few of the things that give me that same feeling, like you are seeing them for the first time, even though you probably have seen them a few hundred times. There is just something about this place.

People always ask me why I came back to the Valley after college. Not too many kids who go out to college seem to return. I tell them the same thing -- for four years of high school, I couldn't wait to get out of Alaska.

For four years of college, I couldn't wait to get back.

Last year, one of my close friends moved back to Alaska (well, Anchorage, which is Alaska in postmark only), and he couldn't be happier. He thinks he'll never leave.

And probably, neither will I. I grew up here, and I'm happy my daughter will get that chance, too. I want her to be amazed every time she sees Denali poking through the clouds.

Some cold winter night years down the road, I want to tell her stories about the splendid display of northern lights that took place around her first birthday. Hopefully, she won't want to leave either.

Casey Ressler (valleylife@frontiersman.com) is the Frontiersman Valley Life editor. He doesn't mind the plentiful fishing here either.