I was filling my hot water bottle around 1am last Saturday – I know that sounds sad but at 63, but that’s my version of late night revelry – when suddenly my wife rushed into the kitchen shouting, “It’s the Aurora Borealis.”
Thinking she’d done herself a mischief I asked, “Where does it hurt?”
“Don’t be daft,” came the reply, followed by an in-depth explanation of the Northern Lights and how they were visible due to an exceptional geomagnetic storm resulting from the sun emitting large clouds of particles called ‘coronal mass ejections’.
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I nodded in fake fascination as, clutching my cooling water bottle, I attempted to sneak upstairs past my home-grown astronomer. My heart sank when she announced, “We’ll need to get away from the city lights if we’re to see the aurora better.”
And so, at 1.30am, the entire O’Kane family found themselves travelling to a car park behind Cavehill to witness what was described by my wife as a once in a lifetime event. Having subsequently learned such displays occur once every 11 years, her assertion was probably correct in relation to me at least.
As I drove along empty roads, I imagined being stopped at a police checkpoint and asked where I was going? “Oh, we’re off to see coloured lights in the sky, officer”, with the policeman no doubt replying, “Is that right, sir? Well, would you mind blowing into this for me?”
Everything changed as we came onto the Hightown Road and were met by a long line of cars parked on the verge due to the car park being packed. I imagined courting couples startled by the lights of a convoy of vehicles suddenly appearing. It looked like half of Belfast were stumbling around in the dark, their mobile phones pointing to the sky, for while the aurora was visible with the naked eye, it came into its own when seen through the all-seeing lens of a mobile.
Some were wearing their pyjamas, and one young girl scared the life out of me when my torch illuminated her bedtime facemask. After about 20 minutes and 30 photos I’m sure I’ll never look at again, the novelty of the celestial event had worn off and I was missing my hot water bottle. But my night wasn’t yet over as I was then instructed to drive further inland in search of what was described as ‘dark sky’.
Half an hour later we were parked in a small country road with mobiles once again pointed skyward to see streaks of green, red and pink. I wasn’t allowed to put on my hazards so I stood convinced a boy racer would barrel around the corner and go right up our aurora borealis.
After about 20 minutes and 30 photos I’m sure I’ll never look at again, the novelty of the Aurora Borealis had worn off and I was missing my hot water bottle
Eventually my whinging about being tired bore fruit and I was allowed to return home, relieved that I probably wouldn’t be around the next time.
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THE Covid Inquiry has done little to improve my pessimistic view of our politicians. A picture of petty bickering and party-political point scoring during a worldwide pandemic highlights what David Stirling – then head of the NI Civil Service – called Stormont ministers’ “quick retreat into campaigning or community activist mode”.
Dr Michael McBride was more direct, calling local politicians “dysfunctional ba***rds”, adding in an exchange with health minister Robin Swann: “How will we get through this with an enemy within?”
History will show that we got through despite, rather than because of, our politicians, though not all of them should be painted as the “enemy within”, with Mr Swann being a standout performer throughout the crisis.
Edwin Poots claimed that Covid had been six times more prevalent within nationalist districts, arguing that excessive celebratory hugging during GAA matches was responsible. I was crestfallen hearing this as, having played Gaelic football as boy and man, I can’t remember one hug
Michelle O’Neill’s apology for attending the Bobby Storey funeral was fulsome and I believed her contrition for what was a terrible mistake by Sinn Féin. Arlene Foster however exuded both arrogance and barely concealed contempt when she appeared to answer questions around her decisions during the pandemic.
In addition, there was no apology from Edwin Poots who, in a written statement to the Inquiry, doubled down on his claim that Covid had been six times more prevalent within nationalist districts - a statistic with no scientific basis. He expanded on this assertion, arguing that excessive celebratory hugging during GAA matches was responsible. I was crestfallen hearing this as, having played Gaelic football as boy and man, I can’t remember one hug.
Mr Poots’s comments have helped answer an astronomical query I’ve held for a lifetime, namely, who the authorities are thinking about when they warn people not to look directly into the sun during a solar eclipse.
