Flavors of the Aurora

I wasn't expecting much from this one.

The KP forecast was middling. The wind was ripping in from the northeast so hard you can practically see it in the water - those little chop lines showing up along the horizon in almost every frame. There were pesky clouds sitting low on the horizon, threatening to steal the show. It was, on paper, another "meh" night.

But the sky itself was so dark and so clear that when I looked up, the stars were popping like someone had polished them. And that's when I knew - even if the aurora stayed low and slow, the night wasn't going to be a waste.

Then she showed up. And oh, in a color I don't see very often.

Gold.

Not the usual electric green. Not the crimson that stole my heart on the first night of the season. This time she came dressed in warm, buttery, glowing gold - with a soft flush of raspberry-pink along the top of the band, and the deep dark of the water and the sky sandwiching those colors perfectly. Frame after frame, that gold ribbon hummed across the sky like a warm oven light.

I stared at it and my brain went, immediately and unstoppably, to dessert.

Specifically? A raspberry-lemon entremet with a pillowy chocolate mousse. That layered thing you see at a beautiful bakery and can't stop thinking about - the clouds of chocolate mouse sitting right on top of the tart pink raspberry gelee, the golden layer of citrus curd in the middle, and the rich dark chocolate gateau underneath holding the whole thing together. That was the sky. One of my favorite desserts, presented just for me.

I was only out for about 90 minutes, but the time flew. I came inside late, cheeks stinging from the wind, and went to bed dreaming about the flavors of that aurora. Which is not a sentence I ever thought I would write, but here we are.

Sometimes the sky surprises you with green. Sometimes she surprises you with red. And sometimes, when you least expect it, she surprises you with dessert.