It was 7 years ago this week that the aurora borealis last visited Georgia. I figured there was no better time to go back and revisit that magical night. The following post was originally written and posted on June 29, 2015, just a few days following the event. Since then I have seen the aurora once more from the North Carolina mountains, but to my knowledge, they have not crossed the border since then. Enjoy!
The text message came in mid-afternoon on a Monday afternoon, alerting me to the potential for a severe, G4 geomagnetic storm. I got my supplies together before heading into work for the afternoon, with my fingers crossed that this storm would be “the one” to bring the Aurora Borealis into Northern Georgia.
Auroras aren’t entirely unheard of in the southeast, however, they are no doubt rare and generally limited to a dim red glow on the northern horizon. Occasionally, though, the greens will spread far enough south to be visible, and this was the case for about 15 minutes in the early morning of June 23, 2015.
I left work at 11:00 PM on the 22nd, well aware of the current geomagnetic situation. All across Europe auroras had been sighted for hours, reaching points fairly far south, and the storm showed no signs of letting up. This led me first to Lake Zwerner in Dahlonega, the closest location to me with a marginally dark, marginally low northern horizon. I spent about 30 minutes trying to no avail. I did, however, manage to snag the Milky Way galaxy, quite a bit of cloud cover, haze and an airplane.
At this point, I pull up my Twitter account (filled with NASCAR, weather and space stuff) and find an alert from SpaceWeatherLive giving a roughly 45-minute warning of a strong spike in the storm. At this moment, an important potentially life-altering decision was made: chase it or not? A quick trip to the gas station, and the addition of two friends later and I was on my way to the top of Richard B. Russell Scenic Highway north of Helen. To my knowledge, this is one of a precious few easily accessible, wide-open northern views in the region.
One frantic drive later, I found myself at 3,655ft above sea level in the middle of June, staring north with my camera in tow. When we arrived, nothing was noticeable on the horizon. I immediately began to worry whether yet another aurora-chasing trip was in vain. Just a few minutes later a dim red glow began to emerge above the haze/clouds that were hugging the mountains, mostly hiding behind a very ill-placed tree in the left of this frame.
A couple minutes later brought a noticeable veil above the clouds, visible as primarily green to the naked eye.
Another two minutes and visible streaks popped up. Over the course of the next 15-20 minutes a painting moved before our eyes, dancing from left to right above the clouds and below the countless stars. The Milky Way runs top right down and left in each of the following frames.
Over time, the main display died down leaving just a few streaks to dance before us. Within a half hour of the start everything was quiet except for an occasional, dim reddish/purplish haze where the mighty pillars once stood.
I took my first shot that morning at 12:22, and the final at 1:22, exactly 1 hour apart.
Auroras had been on my bucket list as an avid amateur astronomer for quite some time, but I certainly never imagined I would see them in this capacity at this latitude. I count this as a blessing from above, as I was allowed to view His heavenly masterpiece. It’s times like these, when I’m standing over a half-mile above the oceans, watching pillars of light dance before me, that I realize how lucky we are to have access to these things, and just how grand the heavens really are.
As another friend and I discussed following my posting of these photos online, these sights are just “borrowed from the Master.” I hope you find them as beautiful as I do.
I’ll see you on the trail….~TW
