Beyond the Winter Wind: Aurora, the Big Dipper, and Home
One winter night, I wondered if the aurora that had supposedly appeared a few days earlier might be fluttering faintly in the sky. I decided to step out into the backyard. I hadn't even opened the door yet, but I could already sense the persistence of the winter wind humming loudly. I parted the blinds and gently slid open the patio door. The moment I did, the cold-laden wind surged in as if it had been waiting. The two cats that had been trailing me flinched and froze in their tracks, twitching their noses, alternating their gaze between the dark backyard and my face. Even in this loudly frigid night, their desire to go outside remained undiminished. I quickly stepped out onto the deck and shut the door behind me. The two cats stood motionless behind the glass, wearing their usual expression—one that seemed to say they couldn’t quite accept being shut out again. Soon, they would each settle into the plush fur rug on the bench, limbs stretching with drowsy ease. Modified image of...