拉普蘭：追蹤極光的足跡

I had set the alarm for 2∶30 a.m.， but well before it went off， my boyfriend and I woke to a pounding on the chalet door. Waking from a deep sleep， we found our neighbors on the doorstep.

“Quick！” they shouted. “The clouds have cleared. It’s happening.”

Neil and I had arrived in Finnish Lapland the day before. With its short days and temperatures low enough to bring on frostbite， there was one goal in my mind： to catch a glimpse of the aurora borealis.

Since seeing photographs of this natural phenomenon， also known as the northern lights， I had dreamed of watching the sky fill with green， pink and white light. So I decided to make my dream come true.

The northern lights have been spotted as far south as Mississippi—though they are far more regularly seen in places such as Norway， Iceland， Greenland， Sweden， Alaska and Canada. I chose to hunt for them in Finnish Lapland， the northernmost part of the country.

Not only is the area stunningly beautiful， it has a good record for aurora borealis sightings—the lights appear here some 200 nights of the year. I booked a five-day stay at Ukonj？rvi Holiday Village， with cozy chalets on the edge of Lake Ukonjarvi.

This part of Finland is a true wilderness， with an average of just one inhabitant per square mile. It’s a land of sparkling lakes， snow-covered pine and birch forests， and clear blue skies. We arrived around lunchtime and took a walk while it was still light out. We quickly realized that snowshoes would make the going easier， so in early evening we put some on and headed out onto the frozen lake. For two hours we stood in the cold watching the sky， returning around midnight to do the same， hoping that the lights would come out to play.

That first night， my anticipation was met with disappointment. We needed a clear sky to get a good view of the northern lights； all we got was cloud cover. It was said that the rest of the week would look similar.

Despite the cold， we spent most of our days outdoors. We kept our focus closer to the ground， with hikes across a frozen landscape filled with hues of white， gray， blue and silver. Walking across Lake Ukonjarvi， I was struck by the hardiness of life in this climate. With no people or cars nearby， and a blanket of snow over everything， it’s little wonder that there was near-total silence. The only sound we could hear was that of the snow crunching beneath our feet.

One morning， we traded our snowshoes for a dogpowered sled. Whooshing through the Arctic snowscape behind a pack of husky dogs was an amazing experience. At times， the younger huskies seemed more eager to cuddle up with the older dogs， but when they started racing， it was hard to catch my breath as we sped along the steep， narrow trails through the forests.

Our nightly trips， though slower and quieter were still the most exciting. Each night， I put on every layer of clothing I’d brought with me， as well as Arctic overalls—pants designed to keep out the cold and damp—I had borrowed from the owner of our chalet. Neil and I put on our snowshoes and walked about ten minutes out to Lake Ukonjarvi.

Sometimes we went light-watching at 8 p.m.， other nights at midnight. It was always bitterly cold， and the temptation to return to a warm bed （or the hot sauna that came with our cottage） was almost enough to send me back inside. And yet， night after night I found myself standing on the ice in the dark and silent Arctic night， looking up at the sky， waiting for it to glow green.

When our neighbors woke us with the shouts that the clouds had cleared， I rushed out， met by what looked like a million stars. There was no aurora yet， which meant there was still time to get a good spot. My heart racing， I dressed as quickly as I could. This was one show I didn’t plan on missing-who knew if I would ever get to see it again？

Out on the lake， we stopped a few hundred feet from the shore. I started to calm down as I looked up at the starlit sky. Once again， we waited. Nothing. Time seemed to stand still.

After about 30 minutes， a band of white appeared in the heavens directly above our heads. For a moment， my hopes sank-it simply looked like a cloud.

Then the streak started swirling around， and was soon joined by a curtain of white-green light. The northern lights， moving and twinkling across the Arctic sky， had joined us.

我把鬧鐘調到了凌晨兩點半，但時間還遠遠沒到，我和男友就被小木屋門口一陣大力的敲門聲吵醒了。睡眼惺忪的我們，發現門口臺階上站著我們的鄰居。

“快！”他們大聲喊道。“烏云已經散了，開始出現了！”

就在前一天，我和尼爾來到了芬蘭的拉普蘭。雖然這里白天很短，溫度低到足以使人長凍瘡，但此行我有一個目標：親眼目睹極光（aurora borealis）的風采。

自從看過這種自然現象（又叫northern lights）的照片以后，我就夢想著有一天能親眼看到鋪滿綠色、粉紅和白色光芒的天幕。所以，我決定實現我的夢想。

雖然南至（美國）密西西比州都曾觀測到北極光，但在挪威、冰島、格陵蘭、瑞典、阿拉斯加和加拿大等地更為常見。我選擇到芬蘭最北端的拉普蘭尋找它們的蹤跡。

這片地區不僅美得驚人，還有很高的北極光目擊記錄，一年約有兩百個晚上會出現極光。我在烏空加維（音譯）渡假村預訂了五天的住宿，住在烏空加維湖邊溫馨舒適的小屋里。

芬蘭的這片地區是一片真正的荒原，平均每平方英里只有一個居民。這片土地有著波光粼粼的湖泊、積雪覆蓋的松林和樺樹林，還有清澈的藍天。我們差不多在午飯時間來到這里，趁著天色還亮走一走。很快我們就發現，雪鞋對于在這里走路很有幫助，所以傍晚我們就穿著這種鞋走到了結冰的湖面上。我們在寒風里站了兩個小時，望著天空，到了午夜又再回來觀望，祈禱著北極光會出來嬉戲一下。

頭天晚上，我的期待落空了。觀賞極光需要有晴朗的天空，而那天晚上云層密布。……