red hair and black leather

Homesick now.

There's apparently some massive solar flares going on, which usually translates to heightened aurora activity.

In Fairbanks, I kept two lawn chairs in my trunk/hatchback. Not for the bonfires that we always attended, but for after. When we were driving home on a cold fall/winter night, and the aurora lit up the entire sky. When we'd drive to the top of Ester Dome or just to the top of aptly-named Aurora Drive, put out the lawn chairs so we wouldn't freeze our butts in the snow, and just watch the ribbons of colors snake across the stars. When we would see this and this and this.

I'm not homesick often. Fairbanks is too isolated for me to be happy there, and I spent far too long trying to make myself into something I wasn't so I'd fit in. I equate Fairbanks and Alaska with being almost completely self-contained, with having to work hard to survive, with compromises, with settling, with missing out. Clearly, this is not true for everyone, and the fact that I grew up there has a lot to do with it. There's compromises and missed opportunities everywhere, it's just a matter of what you're pursuing. For my life and my interests, I need a city and a wide array of choices.

I still miss the sky, though. And the air.