The neon temperature gauge in the SUV ticks down past –30 C. I crack open the passenger door and step out into the black night, my hair hardening with frost and boots squeaking on packed snow. I’m aurora hunting just outside Yellowknife in the Northwest Territories and 2 a.m. in the depth of winter is our best chance of spotting the Northern Lights. “We just need a bit of patience,” says Joe Bailey, founder of North Star Adventures, an Indigenous-owned and operated tour company.
I set up my camera tripod, my numb fingers fumbling with the dials. This is our last stop of the night, and I’m about to retreat to the warmth of the truck without a glimpse of the aurora, when a faint pink light flickers above the inky silhouette of trees. Quickly, the lights turn green, unfurling across the indigo sky like party streamers. The sky is alive with colour. “Woo!” says Bailey, punching the air. “A beautiful fishnet aurora,” he adds, the lights now a swirling, cyclonic vortex overhead.
While I stand awestruck, Bailey shares the aurora’s meaning in Dene culture. “In the Denesuline language, we call the Northern Lights ya’ke ngas, which means, ‘the sky is stirring,’ ” he says. “We believe when the aurora is dancing, it’s our loved ones on the other side, sending a message that everything is okay, they’re at peace.”