> ## Content Index
> Fetch the complete content index at: https://thewildjournal.zackclothierphotography.com/llms.txt
> Use this file to discover other available public pages before exploring further.

# Midnight Symphony
- URL: https://thewildjournal.zackclothierphotography.com/midnight-symphony/
- Published: 2026-09-02T18:01:00.000Z
- Updated: 2026-09-12T17:22:37.000Z
- Description: Some nights give you photographs. Others give you memories. This one gave us both.
- Author: Zack Clothier
- Tags: From the Archive, Stories

![](https://storage.ghost.io/c/c7/61/c7610679-8285-4021-b49a-f941201218b0/content/images/2026/09/Midnight-Symphony--Montana--Landscape-Photography-Nature-Fine-Art-Photo-Prints-for-Sale-1.jpg)

On November 4th, 2021, a massive cloud of plasma erupted from the Sun’s corona and slammed into Earth’s magnetic field, triggering a powerful geomagnetic storm. Fortunately, I follow space weather closely, so I knew there was a chance of strong auroras over Montana. With some advance planning and careful study of cloud-cover forecasts, I had a pretty good idea of where I wanted to be if the opportunity presented itself. I talked my wife into joining me in hopes of witnessing the display, and our husky, Mya, came along too.

When we arrived at our first location, we could see a faint green glow along the distant horizon. We waited for a couple of hours, but the lights never seemed to strengthen. At one point, I stepped away from my camera to set up a flash so I could try to photograph Mya with the Northern Lights behind her.

I turned around just in time to see my tripod beginning to tip over.

I lunged for it, but I wasn’t quick enough. My camera took a face-plant directly onto the rocks. After inspecting the damage, I realized the lens was significantly scratched. I tried to put it out of my mind and make the best of the night, but I couldn’t shake the overwhelming feeling that I had just made a pretty serious mistake.

Sitting there on the edge of the lake in complete darkness was an eerie experience. Every little sound seemed amplified. Was that a bear? Probably not, but the thought was definitely on my mind.

The aurora remained muted, and eventually I decided it was time to pack up and head home. But just as we were about to leave, something told me to continue on to the second location I had planned for the night.

It was shortly after midnight when we arrived at the second lake. I grabbed my camera and tripod and walked down toward the water with Mya. This time, my wife decided to stay in the warmth of the vehicle and catch up on some sleep.

Not long after reaching the lake, I began to notice a change. The aurora was becoming more intense. Within minutes, the lights were pulsating and dancing across the night sky, and the landscape around us began to take on an intense green glow. For the first time that night, you could actually see distinct colors in the aurora with the naked eye.

I quickly walked back to the vehicle to wake my wife so she could witness it for herself.

![](https://storage.ghost.io/c/c7/61/c7610679-8285-4021-b49a-f941201218b0/content/images/2026/09/_Z622601-copy-2-1.jpg)

To our surprise, the display continued for quite some time. I was able to make several unique images that night, including *Midnight Symphony*.

By the end of the night, the scratched lens seemed like a small price to pay. We had started the evening with little more than a faint glow on the horizon and ended beneath one of the most spectacular auroral displays I’ve ever witnessed. Standing there with my wife and Mya, watching the sky come alive over the lake, I was reminded once again why I’m willing to venture out into the darkness in the first place.

Some nights give you photographs. Others give you memories. This one gave us both.