March’2024, Reine, Lofoten Islands, Norway, somewhere on top of the World above the Arctic Circle.

It was our fourth day in Norway, third in the Lofoten Islands, the land of the trolls, giants and Valkyries. How we got there and why is a story on its own, full of drama, twists and turns, and heart ache. But our purpose there – the why – was clear: hunt for those Lights, the Aurora, the dazzling Bifrost, the bridge to the realms of myth and magic.

This was my third attempt at spotting and shooting the Aurora. The first time was in 2018, when we were not even able to make it to Norway, because one apparently needs a microscope to fully comprehend a Schengen visa. My second attempt was in 2019, in Murmansk, Russia. I did manage to spot them twice there, both time a single streak across the sky for a few seconds. First time it was from the airplane window just before landing in Murmansk. The second time, at 4am after a ten hour hunt through frozen wastelands of Kola Peninsula, at -35 degrees celsius .

Now it was 2025, and attempt number three. We gave ourselves the best chance to experience the Lights: a two week excursion of North of Norway during the Solar maximum.

But, now it already had been three days of no shows, and not for the lack of effort on my part. I had been spending the evenings walking around in the open, staring at the sky, and… clicking photographs of it.

This was something I learnt in Russia. To the uninitiated, an average Aurora will appear as pale whitish streaks, like a cloud or a wisp, so the best way to spot these ghosts is with a camera, even a phone camera, where they will show up as florescent green. This is due the difference in colour perception between the human eyes and a camera sensor.

So there I was sitting outside the (Mexican) restaurant at the end of the World. scanning the skies with all of my four eyes, both human and digital. And there on the late evening horizon, I saw a streak, somewhat familiar, vaguely different, definitely otherworldly, and my camera photo showed it to have a green tint. This was it! The Bifrost had opened. The Valkyries were landing.

The time was 8.15 PM, and yes there was a glorious full moon that day.

We got into our car with a thermos of hot coffee and started driving down the road, trying to get away from the town lights, to get closer the the magic, to get away from the mundane and journey into the mythic.

We drove around the bay for a couple of miles and stopped at a point with a good view of the surrounding fjords with Hamnøy still glimmering at the base and the celestial lights getting stronger. There we also encountered a jolly, rather conical, giant, clearly pleased with the valkyries paying him a visit.

The myths around the Auroras take many forms. In these lands, in the North of Norway there are at least two from the Norse beliefs. First, that the lights are trails of the Valkyries passing by, carrying the gallant fallen warriors to Valhalla. And second, the Auroras were the rainbow bridge Bifrost that connects Midgard to Asgard, the Earth to the realm of the gods. I feel we don’t need to stay with only one version for our story here. We can let our imagination light up.

In fact there are even more variations to consider. The Sami tribes of these regions call the aurora “guovssahas”, meaning the lights that can be heard, that they are alive and whisper. They also advise caution against them. And then, according a Finnish legend, the auroras are caused by a magical Arctic Fox sweeping its tail across the snow, sending sparks into the sky. It could even be the fox’s tail itself which lights up the heavens. They call them, Revontulet, Fox Fires.

We had the company of other hunters too during this journey, though they seemed to be far more experienced and well prepared from this adventure.

I stuck to the basics, a DSLR (D850) a wide angle lens (14-24mm f/2.8), a small tripod that could be fixed anywhere and fast, and a cup of hot coffee to stay alert and to keep my fingers from freezing – it was close to -15 degrees.

We moved on from that spot further down the road away from civilisation, riding the Bifrost. We made our stop on a ledge looking out into the sea. By now the sky was on fire, and all the spirits of this realm and the others came together to dance in the moonlight.

Even the Midgard Serpent, Jörmungandr, passed us by on his rounds.

When the cresendo finally came down, we started to make our way back to the town, back to the material, while our minds were still flying with the sublime. And the Valkyries were not done with us either.

Even as we came back to our hotel, they kept us company, waving us a good night through the window as we tucked in.