Discovering God’s Light in the Darkness: My First Time Seeing the Northern Lights in Wyoming

Discovering God’s Light in the Darkness: My First Time Seeing the Northern Lights in Wyoming

“In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth… And God said, ‘Let there be light,’ and there was light.”
Genesis 1:1–5 (NIV)

There are moments in life when Heaven feels impossibly close — when the sky itself becomes a reminder that God still paints new wonders in the dark. That’s exactly how it felt the night the Northern Lights danced over Wyoming…and over my own front porch.

The Message That Changed My Night

I had just put the Shepherd’s Pie in the oven when my phone buzzed.
It was my friend Annie.

“Hey, can you see the aurora??”

I ran outside without thinking.
Conor looked at me, confused — “What’s going on?”
But words weren’t necessary.

The sky above us was glowing.

From our front porch, we stood frozen in awe.
Red, purple, green — colors so strong we could see them without a camera.
It felt like an eternal sunset stitched across the night sky.

This was our first time witnessing the Aurora Borealis in Wyoming, and God had brought it right to our home.

Overwhelmed Before the Camera Came Out

I’ll be honest — it took me a minute to even touch my camera.
I was overwhelmed.
Grateful.
Shaken in the most beautiful way.

Since moving to Wyoming, we’d had three chances to see the aurora. We missed the first two, and I remember being so disappointed. A friend once told me:

“Sometimes you can only see them through a camera.”

But that night… God didn’t even need a camera to show us His light.

Searching My Property for the Perfect Shot

After the shock wore off, the photographer in me kicked in.
I needed something in the foreground — something to give the Northern Lights context.

I wandered around the property until I remembered our greenhouse.
I’ve walked to it thousands of times, but never in total darkness.
So I ran inside, grabbed the little camping lamp my older brother gave us, and used it to light the path — and eventually, my photos.

Even though the greenhouse shots weren’t perfect, the moment I saw those bright aurora colors on my screen, I whispered:

“Thank You, Lord, for letting me see Your colorful light in the darkness.”

As I walked away, I noticed one of my trees — tall, simple, standing strong — and I instantly knew I’d found my next frame.
I even took down the bird feeder so it wouldn’t clutter the shot.

Little details matter when the sky is dancing for you.


Shepherd’s Pie, Anxiety, and a Midnight Drive to Boulder Lake

Between photos, I kept running inside to eat Shepherd’s Pie.
Conor could tell I was anxious and excited; my mind couldn’t stop imagining what Boulder Lake would look like under the aurora.

So I grabbed my camera, the lamp, and a cookie (fuel is important), and drove into the night.

Boulder Lake is familiar during the day, but in the dark, it changes completely.
Lighting the rocks was tricky, the cold was sharp, and I couldn’t make it to the water because the path was too steep.
But even then — God provided good photos.

Some of my favorite shots came from that quiet, cold, solitary moment.

Night Two: Chasing the Aurora at Fremont Lake

The next night, I bundled up again and invited Kailee — she has joined me for many photography adventures.
By the time I finished a prior commitment, it was already dark, but this time I had a plan.

We drove to Fremont Lake, hoping the aurora was still strong.

When we arrived, it was cloudy and empty.

We got out with our phones, searching the sky.
Nothing.

So I did what I always do when I need direction:

I called Conor.

“Look north,” he said.

I suddenly realized…I didn’t know where north was.
So I pulled out my phone, opened a compass app, and we aimed our cameras blindly.

To our surprise — the Northern Lights were there.

The parking lot at the lower boat dock had never looked more magical.

We moved down to the lake, found massive rocks, set up our tripods, and the sky kept changing every few minutes.
Two photos taken from the same exact spot looked completely different.

Because God was painting in real time.

Sandy Beach and a Night of Pure Peace

We later drove to Sandy Beach.
Kailee’s mom, Maggie, picked her up, and suddenly I was alone under the stars.

It was perfect.

Quiet.
Holy.
Sacred.

Headlamp on, I wandered along the shoreline, looking up constantly, thanking God for letting me witness something so rare.
These were my first true attempts at night photography in Wyoming, and I felt like a little kid discovering a new world.

Every photo felt like a gift.

I stayed until my headlamp battery died, still smiling as I walked back to the truck.

I’ll Never See the Night Sky the Same Again

Fremont Lake has never looked more beautiful.
The sky has never felt so alive.
And I know I will never see darkness the same way again.

The Northern Lights felt like God whispering:

“My light is still here. Even in the darkest places.”

I drove home with my heart full and my bucket list a little shorter —
I had finally seen and photographed the Northern Lights in Wyoming.



Want to Support My Work?

If this story inspired you or made you feel closer to God’s creation, here are a few ways to support my photography and The Overland Diaries:

Thank you for reading my story and for sharing these moments of awe with me.
May God’s light continue to meet you in unexpected places.


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