Northern Lights

Early on the morning of my daughter’s wedding in Northern Lapland I walked alone in the snow from our log cabin to the Kiilopaa Fell Centre to join the bridegroom's family at breakfast.  All around was white with snow.  Above me, a single star shone and twinkled brightly, alone in the northern sky.  The silence was stunning, broken only by the scrunching and crackling of the frozen snow under my feet.

The reflection of the guiding lamps along the route made the snow glisten and shine as if a million fairy jewels were sparkling on a great pure-white carpet spread over the land.  The scene was breathtakingly beautiful.  Tall pine trees bent under the weight of snow and other trees took on the appearance of huge cobwebs woven in delicate gossamer.  In places the scene resembled a vast outdoor exhibition of wonderful sculptures.  It was the Snow Queen’s magical kingdom and I just walked through it, as if in a dream. 

After breakfast the bridegroom’s sister, her mother and I set out in the semi-darkness for Saariselka’s Spa Hotel Beauty Parlour.  The sky ahead suddenly lit up with the most wonderful shades of peach, apricot, yellow and orange, a reminder that the sun, although it wouldn’t rise, was still there below the horizon.

The ceremony took place at 3pm in an octagonal wooden building, lit by candles and heated by a huge log fire. Approaching the hut, we found logs burning in pairs, lining our path outside on the snow. Inside, mats had been placed on the earthen floor for the bride and bridegroom to stand on. The congregation sat on log benches covered with reindeer hides and in front of each person a tiny tea candle burned on a small log table.

The reception and evening celebrations in music and dance followed. The young people then went on to a nightclub in Saariselka and those of us who remained began to prepare for the long trudge back to our cabins, experiencing the anticlimax following what had been a truly momentous occasion at the end of a glorious week of winter sports.  Four days earlier, a planned nature walk to see the Northern Lights had been cancelled because the sky had been overcast.

Suddenly, someone rushed in, calling, ‘Come quickly - the Northern Lights!’  Everyone raced outside to where the temperature was -34 degrees C. We were just in time to see streamers of green light dancing rapidly across the sky from left to right.  No words could adequately describe the sight.  No artist could capture a true image.  I remembered reading an article by a Times correspondent about how she had gone to Lapland to see those lights but after five days, she gave up and never managed to see them, yet I saw them, on my daughter’s wedding night, and I took it to be a sign that, although the sun hadn’t shone on the bride, all her hopes and dreams would be fulfilled.