Seeing what isn't there or not-seeing what is there
The difference, this time of year, between what is below the horizon line and what is above it is minimal. Everything takes on one note. Last night the fella, dog and I went out to see if we could see some Northern Lights. We walked out into the middle of the bay, the sound of bits of crusted snow skittering around like glass shards - the dog curious and delighted that we'd be out there then. No lights but I noticed when I looked to the north that it was as if there was a smudge in the center of my glass lenses. I wasn't wearing my glasses though! When I turned to look back towards the beach the fuzziness was gone. The fella suggested that it was this lightening of the sky near the horizon but I don't think he was seeing what I was. When is anyone? I remember the anxiety I would feel when someone in our station wagon would spot a moose, far off, near a lake, like a picture on a diner placemat. I'd never be able to see the moose and I would hate it - the moose, my brother who would grab my head and point it in what he thought was the right direction, my folks, sighing. Hate it. Sometimes I would pretend to see the moose! How insane is that? At any rate, I didn't try and get the fella to not see what I was not seeing, I just nodded in the dark and hoped that would do.
Today, I saw on social sites that no one that I know had been successful in seeing the northern lights. Whew! I thought. Hate to think I went to bed just as a big acid flash-back type light show was going on. I slept so well too. I would like to try the sleeping for two hours and waking at midnight for a couple of meditation type hours but unsure how to make it natural.