The Northern Lights

Silence…

Peace…

Calm…

There was nothing to hear except for the sound of his skis as they moved through the tracks. The falling snow had not totally filled up the tracks, but it still did a good job at muting almost all sound. The thirteen year old boy followed the tracks through the spruce forests and over the open fields; the three kilometer loop had lights spaced strategically. As each pool of light disappeared, the light from the next one took its place, and since the sun had set an hour ago, he kept himself within that loop. He would just have to go around it several times if he wanted to keep going longer.

No one else was on the tracks this afternoon, but then, why would they be? This was the evening when most people would be busy putting up their Christmas trees and other Christmas decorations, for tomorrow was Christmas Eve.

Tears filled his eyes, as he herringboned his way up a hill that was just a bit too steep to walk up with the normal diagonal strides. He had to stop when he reached the top, to wipe his eyes or he would not have been able to see.  Once done, he continued on down the slightly sloped path that lay before him.

He studied the distinctive paw prints of a hare that crossed the ski tracks in front of him. They had to have been quite fresh as they were not yet filled up by snow, which had only just stopped falling while he had been climbing up the hill.

'You are lucky,' he thought. 'What worries do you have? Just keep away from the fox and find some food.'

Frustrated, he started hitting the snow with one of his poles, as if that would do any good. He sunk the basket of the pole down into the snow and lifted it back up, carrying the snow with it. With a swing of the pole over his head, in a huge arc, he threw the snow in between the spruces. Had he not worn the strap around his hand, the pole would have followed the snow.

'For you, stupid hare' he thought, as he watched the snow disappear between the snow covered trees.

He double poled down the tracks until it got steep enough for him to tuck down and assume the hock position as he flowed easily down the hill. With only a little help from his poles he managed to get up the next short uphill as well, before he continued across the flatter stretch using the diagonal style.

The sky had cleared up slightly, and a few stars were now visible above him. If he moved away from the lighted tracks, he would have been able to see a lot more of them. He reached the end of the tracks and had a moment's doubt as to what he should do. He could go back home, or he could start his trek over again and walk three kilometers more.

He knew he should go home, but he just was not ready yet, so he started the loop again. The first few hundred meters of the tracks meandered between a few of the houses in the little village where he lived. The boy felt a sting in his heart as he saw the families in those homes eagerly working on their Christmas decorations.

His thoughts wandered back to the Christmas Eve two years before; it was a very happy memory. His parents, little brother Eric, and himself had had a wonderful time; eating the traditional Christmas pork ribs with the delicious white sausages and the sour cabbage before opening the presents that had been waiting for them under the tree during the entire meal. He had to smile as he remembered Erik's eyes, filled with anticipation and impatience during the entire Christmas dinner.  He had not been much better himself, he recalled.

He forced himself to focus on the happy memories as he skimmed through the tracks at full speed. Since it had now been a while since the snow had stopped falling, it was a bit easier to keep the speed up.

His thoughts went back to that happy Christmas Eve once again; the look in the eyes of his three year younger brother as he had opened his presents; the joyful cheers from both Erik and himself when their father brought in the new bikes that they were getting as the final present for the night; how much he and Erik had longed for spring to arrive and the snow to melt through the next few months, so that they could try them out.

As he came back to the steep hill where he had to use the herringbone technique, he couldn't stop it any longer. His thoughts jumped one year ahead, to last Christmas Eve.

Those memories struck him hard. The incredible contrast to the joyful memories was so enormous. Again, he stopped at the top of the hill where the hare tracks crossed.

Why?

Why did this have to happen to us?

He let himself fall sideways and he landed in the snow. He just couldn't take it any longer. All the pain. All the worrying. All the sorrow. Maybe he should just stay here lying in the snow.

Soon he could feel the cold, but he just didn't care. He just stayed there, lying in the snow next to the prepared tracks, where his skis still were.

"Are you alright?"

Who was that? Where was he? He opened his eyes and wiped some tears away with his glove. He was still lying there in the snow, by the ski tracks; he had totally lost track of time.

"Hey, do you need some help? Did you hurt yourself?" the voice asked again. It was the voice of a boy, but the dialect was not from anywhere close. He sounded like he came from much farther North.

"No, not really," he answered, still a bit confused, as he pulled himself together and used one of his poles to get back up on his feet.

Then he recognized the boy. It was the new kid in his class; he had started only a week before they had broken for Christmas.

"Oh, Hi! It's you. I didn't recognize you there in the snow. Odd, wasn't it?" the boy said.

"Yeah, that's me," Odd answered, remembering the boy's name. "You're Even, right?"

"Yes, what in the world are you doing lying in the snow like that? Aren't you cold?" Even wondered.

"Don't ask." Odd answered, grimly.

Odd winced when he saw the worried expression on Even's face. 'This was it.' Odd thought.  It would not be long before every kid at school would learn how Odd was found lying in the snow in the middle of the forest, crying like a baby; on the night before Christmas, too.

"Don’t worry," Even said, seeming to understand Odd's fear, "I won't tell anyone, I promise."

Odd looked surprised at Even, and then said weakly, "Thanks, I appreciate that."

Odd joined Even and together they continued to ski along the tracks in silence.

After about a kilometer, they came out of the spruce forest and into an open field. The field was on a hillside, but the track was running over it, continuing on at about the same height. On nice winter days, many kids and, in fact, some families, would go here to play in the field. Already, it looked like someone had made a ski jump a few meters down from the tracks.  To use it, though, you had to climb up from the track and slide down across it towards the jump; this gave you the extra speed you needed to get any length while jumping.

"Do you jump?" Even asked and pointed to the mound of snow that made up the ski jump.

"No," Odd answered, "I don't have jumping skis, and I don't want to break my cross country skis. Do you?"

"No, but I'm really more afraid of breaking my body than I am of breaking my skis," Even answered with a wry grin.

Odd had to smile at that. "Well," he admitted, "there is that too."

Even stepped out of the track and slid carefully down to the jump.

"It's quite sturdy, we can easily sit on it," he said, and was about to sit down on the jump.

"Wait," Odd said, and slid down to him. There, he took off his skis and placed them on the jump. Even caught the idea and put his own skis next to Odd's, before they sat down together on top of them.

"It's clearing up," Even said, and pointed to the sky. Almost all the clouds were gone, and they could now see many more stars, particularly now that they had moved away from the lights on the track.

Odd did not answer, so they just sat there in silence for a while. It was strange, yet somehow, it felt good and Odd certainly felt a lot better than when he had been crying in the woods.

After a while, though, the silence got a bit too heavy for Odd.

"Why are you out here tonight?" he asked Even.

"Oh, we had finished all the decorating, and Mom started preparing the dinner for tomorrow and didn't want me to hang around and bug her all the time, so she suggested that I take a round in the lighted tracks." Even explained. "What about you? Do you want to talk about why I found you like that, out in the forest on a day like this?"

"I don't know," Odd answered weakly, and looked down at his skiing boots.

"You can trust me," Even assured Odd, "I won't tell anyone if you don't want me to."

"Thanks," Odd said, and he looked up at Even, who was looking back at him with a worried expression. Somehow he believed Even when he said that he could trust him.

"Things are pretty bad at home," he started, "and I just needed to get away for a while. I should get back, but it's just so hard."

"Oh," Even looked even more worried. "How bad?"

"Very." Odd answered and gazed up at the stars. He found a light that moved and kept track of it with his eyes as it traveled across the sky in a straight line. Probably a satellite or a space craft of some sort, he thought. He could sit for hours like this, looking at the stars and dreaming and imagining how it would be to be amongst them.

This time, though, he was ripped out of his thoughts by Even who put a hand on his shoulder.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," Even started, "but perhaps it would be helpful to share it? I swear I can keep a secret if you need me to."

What was this? Even acted like Odd always had imagined a real friend would act. Odd turned and looked into Even's eyes and found compassion there, and something else. What was that? It reminded Odd of his mother, and once again the tears started to flow from his eyes.

"Thanks," he said, sniffing and wiping his nose on the his sleeve. Even kept his hand on Odd's shoulder and smiled, encouraging Odd to start talking.

"Alright," Odd started, he might just as well tell it now. If Even had wanted to tease him or make fun of him, he already had more than enough material to make life even worse for Odd.

"My Mum died last Christmas, and things have not been good at home since then."

"Oh, I see," Even's voice seemed filled with a shared sorrow, "I'm sorry."  He gripped Odd's shoulder comfortingly.  "What happened?" Even asked gently.

"It… it was an accident," Odd got out. "We had been to town, shopping for Christmas, and I thought I had forgotten my wallet in one of the shops.I couldn't find it anywhere. So when we got home, Mom had to drive back into town to see if she could find it at the store where I had used it last. But then, shortly after she had left, I found the wallet in the other pocket of my jacket; so I called her mobile phone to tell her that she didn't have to drive all the way down to town.  Just as she answered it, I heard it happen…" Odd shuddered and a sob escaped.

"She crashed?" Even guessed, obviously very concerned.

"Yeah. She almost hit a woman with a child, walking along the road. She turned the car away from them, and ran into a light pole standing by the road. She was so badly hurt. She lived for two days in the hospital, before she died... Christmas eve."

Even didn't say anything, but he kept his hand on Odd's shoulder. Odd was sure the explosion would come soon. He was sure Even would hate him, just like his father did, and his brother, too, even though Erik was better at hiding it.

Finally, the suspense became too much for Odd, he had to know.

"You hate me now, right?" he asked, while keeping his eyes firmly fixed on his boots.

"Why in the world should I hate you? I don't understand?" Even asked, sounding a bit confused.

"Well, now that you know... I'm so careless;  I get distracted easily and I'm absent minded, and I ended up killing my own Mom..." Odd trailed off before taking a few deep breaths and continuing:  "Who would want to be friends with me, now?"

Odd felt like running away, but since they were sitting on his skis, he obviously could not just leave. He kicked his boot down into the snow, as if to get a better grip when the blow he was expecting came.

… But it never did.

Instead something completely unexpected happened…

Even put his arms around Odd and pulled him in closer, and Odd received his first real hug in the last year.

"I don't hate you," Even whispered quietly into Odd's ear. "It wasn't your fault that your mother died. I'm sure she went back to search for your wallet because she loved you, and she didn't have to answer her mobile phone while driving, even if it called."

Odd had no answer, only tears, so Even kept hugging him close.

"You said things were bad at home since the accident?" Even asked, obviously trying to understand more of Odd's situation.

"Yeah," Odd answered and went back to studying the tip of his skiing boots.

Even didn't say anything more for a while, just sat there silently with Odd. It was both nice and awkward at the same time.

Odd lifted his eyes and glanced up at the stars again. The memories of the past year were flooding through his mind; most of the memories were bad, and some were very much so.

"Do you think you'll get anything nice tomorrow?" Even asked, as if to try and lighten the conversation.

"I… I won't get any presents," Odd sobbed suddenly, "there… won't be any Christmas for me… me this year."

"No presents?" Even exclaimed in a tone of shock, "and no Christmas?"

Odd just shook his head and kept looking down. He was starting to feel cold now, and together with the strong emotions of all the memories from the whole year, it made him start shaking uncontrollably. Even put both his arms around Odd again and pulled him into his own body to try and warm him.

"Oh God, Odd, you are so cold," he said, "we should not have stayed sitting here so long without moving. I'm sorry."

"No," Odd sobbed in Even's arms, still shaking, "I don't want to go. Can't we just stay here a little longer?"

"You'll get sick," Even said, while he tried to rub some heat into Odd's body. "We have to go."

"I don't want to go home," Odd whispered softly. "I never want to go home again."

Even sighed, "Is it really that bad?" he asked.

Odd nodded carefully.

"Well, we still have to get you warmed up," Even said firmly. "Why don't we go for another round in the tracks. That should warm us up a bit, then we can come back here and sit down again for a little while?"

Odd knew it was a good suggestion, so they strapped their boots onto their skis again and climbed back up to the tracks.

The tracks were double, and, since no one else was around, they walked side by side. Neither of the boys said anything for a long time. As they passed the starting point of the tracks, Even pointed to one of the houses, just 50 meters away from the track.

"That's our house," he said, "if you want we could go there for a while to get you warmer."

"No!" Odd wasn't ready for that. He didn't want to face Even's parents like this; they would just ask a lot of questions about him. "Let's just do another round," he said as he increased the pace of his walking.

"Okay," Even said, and followed him along the tracks.

They were back to skiing in silence. Odd preferred it that way; it was so quiet and calm out in the snow. Somehow, though, it also felt good to listen to the sounds of two pairs of skis and poles, swishing together in sort of harmony, not just his own.

They reached a short hill, and Odd walked straight up it, but he stopped at the top when he heard the sound of struggling.  He turned and saw that Even was having some trouble getting up the hill as he just kept sliding backwards, so he had started to spread his skis and herringbone up.

"What wax did you use?" Odd asked curiously.

Once he had reached Odd, Even put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a red box of skiing wax.

"Oh, I see what's wrong; it's too cold for that," Odd explained. "You need to wax with blue to get a better grip."

"Oh yeah, but I only had the red box," Even explained, "so I used that."

"Here," Odd said, and fished a blue box of wax out of his pocket. "Let me help you. Lift up your ski."

Even lifted up his left foot and planted the ski on it with the back end down in the snow. He was leaning on his poles to keep standing, while Odd carefully applied a good layer of the blue wax on the kick zone of Even's ski. Then Even put the ski back down, and lifted the other one so Odd could repeat the treatment on that.

"Thanks," Even said, while Odd put his wax back in his pocket. "Perhaps it will be better now."

"Let's try it out," Odd suggested and pointed to the next hill with his pole.

It was much better, now, and Even could walk up the hill almost as easily as Odd.

They continued around the tracks, and soon arrived back at the field with the ski jump.  "Do you want to take another break and sit down again?" Even asked.

Odd wasn't sure. He did not really feel like talking about those things he knew Even would ask him about; but it had felt really good when he had started to open up to him earlier. Also, Odd feared that Even would go home if they continued, and he didn't want their trip together to end. He stepped out of the track and slid down to the jump again. Even was right behind him, and soon they were sitting on their bench, made out of their skis again.

Now what? Odd was sure Even would start asking questions again, and this time he didn't know how to avoid answering them. There was something about Even; something that made Odd trust him. He decided to just go ahead and start telling him what was going on.

"Dad hates me," Odd said, before Even could start asking questions again. "He really hates me for what happened with Mom."

"But it wasn't your fault!" Even almost shouted out.

"He thinks it is. He hardly ever looks at me anymore, and when he does, it is to say something mean, or to push me away or just to hit me."

"Your dad hits you?" Even was even more shocked now.

"Not really hard, and not often," Odd said quickly, as if trying to excuse his own father, "and only when he is drunk and I have done something wrong."

"But… But he can't hit you. He's not allowed," Even said, with tears appearing in his eyes. "Parents can't just hit their children!"

Odd looked at the tears in Even's eyes. Were those tears for him? Was Even really crying for him?

"Have you ever told anyone about this?"

Odd carefully shook his head. "No," he answered, now keeping his eyes averted from looking at Even, "I thought everyone would agree that I deserved it after what happened with Mom."

"Well, I don't agree," Even said, with a sudden anger in his voice, "and I'm very sure that most people wouldn’t. You have to tell someone, Odd."

"But, I can't!" Odd cried out, feeling the despair he had been so familiarized with over the previous year, rise again. "I just can't. I don't want to move away from Erik. He's my brother."

"Why do you think you would have to move away from him?"

"Because Dad only hits me.  He's not kind to Erik, but he doesn't hit him, I think."

"You think?" Even sounded even more unsure.

"Yeah," Odd looked back up at Even, "I have never seen him put a hand on Erik. I don't know what he does when I'm not there, but Erik has never said anything about being hit."

"How old is your brother?" Even queried.

"He's in fifth grade, just turned ten this summer. I know he hates me for what happened, too. He never says so, but he has to. But I still care for him; he's my little brother, I can't just leave him with that horrible man."

Even sighed. Neither of the boys said anything for a while. Odd went back to studying the stars that had become even more visible by now. The sky had really cleared up, but at the same time it had gotten a few degrees colder. They would not be able to sit there much longer before they had to go indoors, unless they wanted to get sick.

"So," Even finally asked, "what are you doing tomorrow if you don't have any Christmas?"

"I don't know. I saw Dad bring home some purple bags from Vinmonopolet today, so I guess he'll be hammered. Erik and I will have to try to stay away from him as much as possible. I wish I could get Erik a present, but Dad never gives me any money, so I haven't been able to buy him anything. Erik tried to put up some Christmas decoration he had made in school today, but Dad got really angry at him, and tore it apart and started yelling. Erik ran to his room, and Dad started yelling at me. That’s why I had to get out of there and walk out here."

"Odd," Even said. "You have to tell someone. You just have to come home with me and tell my Mom about it."

"No!" Odd shouted. "I can't," he continued in a much weaker voice, as tears began fall from his eyes again, "I just can't."

Odd broke down in tears again and Even wrapped his arm around him for support. Neither of the boys said anything for the next couple of minutes.

Suddenly, Odd heard someone moving in the tracks, but he didn't care. He just hoped that whoever it was would walk past them without noticing them, or would at least leave them alone: but, no such luck. He recognized the sound of the skis leaving the tracks and sliding down towards where they were sitting.

"Hey, Odd, there you are!" it was Erik, Odd's brother. "I was getting really worried about you."

"You were?" Odd asked, surprised.

"Yeah, Dad wouldn't say where you had gone, so I was afraid something bad had happened to you. But then I noticed your skis were gone, so I thought I'd go around and look for you."

Odd had to smile at his younger brother. He was very happy that Erik had been worried about him, and that he had come looking for him.

"Who are you?" Erik suddenly asked Even.

"My name is Even, I'm in Odd's class. You must be Erik?"

"Yes, that's me. Can I sit down with you?  Please?" Erik looked at the older boys with eyes filled with hope.

"Of course you can," Even said, before Odd could answer. Odd wasn't really sure that he wanted his little brother around right now, but of course he couldn't send him away either. After all, he had come out in the cold, looking for him when he was afraid that something was wrong.

Erik stepped out of his skis and set them with the back end down in the snow so they would not slide away from them down the hill. Then he jumped up next to Odd on the bench they had created with their skis.

"Odd?" Erik started to say carefully, "I'm very sorry that I made dad angry again. I shouldn't have brought that Christmas decoration home. I just…" his voice started to break, "I just wanted to have some sort of Christmas."

Odd put his arm around his little brother and lifted him up into his lap where he hugged him close.

"Don't be sorry, Erik, it's not your fault. It's my fault... all my fault." Odd sobbed.

"Why is it your fault?" Erik asked, while looking surprised at his big brother. "I brought home that Christmas thing that Dad hates, not you!"

"You know…" Odd stumbled, "It's all my fault… that Mom died, and for Dad drinking… he hates me so much."

"It wasn't your fault, Odd; it was an accident!" Erik stated firmly.

"Yes, I agree. It's not your fault, Odd; why can't you understand that?" Even said, as he joined back into the conversation.

Erik put his arms around his big brother and returned the hug he was getting. "Look!" he said, as pointed to the sky, surprise evident in his voice. "What is that?"

Odd and Even both looked up and could see a weak band of blue light dancing across the sky.

"Oh, I didn't think you could see that from here; we're so far south…" Even muttered softly.

"What is it?" Erik asked again.

"It's the Northern Lights," Even explained.

"Cool, I've never seen them before," Erik exclaimed and turned around so he could look properly. All three boys leaned back to lie on their backs and they all took deep breaths as they looked up in awe, at the lights that moved across the sky above them.

"We could see it a lot better where I used to live, up North," Even explained, "and often much brighter and with a lot of different colors. But it's nice to see every time. When I was little, I used to be afraid that it would come down and get me and take me away from Mom, but that was just because of some stupid tales that some of the older kids told us young ones."

"I wish it could be true." Erik mumbled, tears threatening to fall again.

"What?" Even asked.

"I wish it could come and take me and Odd away. I don't want to live with that horrible man any longer."

"Hush, Erik, don't talk like that!" Odd was shocked that his little brother would say that.

"But it's true," the little boy cried out through his sudden sobs, "and you know it. He just isn't nice, and now we're not getting any Christmas." Erik was crying hard now, and Odd just pulled him tighter into the hug.

"That's it!" Even exclaimed. "I'm telling Mom. I have to.  She's working to help kids that are in trouble; perhaps she can do something for you."

"No," Odd begged, "please don't!"

"Why not?" cried Erik, tears still falling from his cheeks, "Do you think it can get worse than it is now?"

"They can take us away from each other," Odd explained, also sounding close to tears.

"No, I'm sure they'll let you stay together, they don't usually break up siblings that don't want it," Even assured them.

"I'm not sure…" Odd mumbled, as he watched the intensity of the aurora increase.

"Come on!" Even insisted, "You just have to tell! At least let me tell Mom about it, I'm sure she will know what to do."

"Yes," came from the still crying Erik, "we have to tell, Odd, I don't want Dad to hurt you anymore. He's so mean."

Odd was lost. What should he do? On one level he wanted so much to tell someone about the things that were going on. He was afraid that it would get worse, and terrified that his father would start hitting Erik as well. But then what would happen? He had always heard so many bad things about the life children living in orphanages or in foster care had. Odd was not sure that he wanted to become one of those.

Then it struck him what Erik had said. He didn't want Dad to hurt him any longer. Odd felt all warm on the inside, a feeling of love and pride for his little brother.

"I don't want him to hurt you either," he said calmly to Erik. "Has he ever hurt you?"

"Not really," Erik answered, "as long as I'm good and do what he tells me to, he doesn't hit me or anything. Not like he hits you, anyway."

Odd hugged Erik close, and together they stared up at the Northern Lights while thinking about what they should do.  Erik had been hit, he knew that now.  He could not let that continue…

"Let's go tell my mother," Even said. "You both need to get away from that man, and we need to make a nice Christmas for both of you."

Odd drew a deep breath and was about to answer that he agreed when his little brother beat him to it.

"Yeah, I agree," Erik said firmly and started to get up from the snow.

He pulled Odd up while Even stood up by himself. All three boys put their skis back on and climbed up the hill to the tracks again.

The aurora was not that easy to see now, as they were right under the lights that lit the path, but in between the poles, as each one faded into nothing and the next one had just barely started to light the path,  they still could barely see that moving band of color above them.

When they reached the house where Even lived with his mother, Even told the brothers to wait for him outside while he went in and explained the situation. Odd nodded and watched Even leave them behind and go into the house. Through the living room window, he could spot a beautiful Christmas tree, and the other Christmas decorations that filled the room.

"Look," Erik said, and grabbed Odd's hand while pointing in through the window.

"Yeah, it really looks nice, doesn't it?" Odd answered.

"I wish we could get Christmas too," Erik said, Odd could hear the tears in his voice.

"Oh, you will have Christmas, alright; both of you." Odd turned around to find out who had said that.

It was a woman that he had never seen before, but she was standing just outside the now open door, together with Even, so he guessed it had to be Even's mother.

"Even told me briefly what you boys have told him today," she started, "and I can assure you that you will both get to celebrate Christmas. You're invited to stay here with us, and your father will just have to accept that. After the Christmas weekend, we will have to look at finding a more permanent solution for both of you, but right now – why don't you come in here and get something warm to drink?"

Odd looked down at his younger brother who was looking up at him with begging, hope-filled eyes.

"Yes, that sounds good. Thank you," He said, and grabbed Erik's hand.

Together they walked in, Erik with a huge grin on his face, Odd with tears of both joy and sorrow flowing down his face, and the door quietly closed behind them.

In the sky, as if content at a job well done, the waving Northern Lights started to dim and fade from view…

The End

Editor's Note:

Well, what can I say?  I loved this story, and I feel honoured that The Phone has let me try my hand at editing it for him.  I'm sure that any faults here are now mine, as this is the first time I've played editor.

I for one will be waiting for more stories concerning Even, Odd and Erik, and if they don't follow, I will be digging out my pitchforks!

Seriously, this is a heartwarming tale, and another great piece of work by The Phone.  I hope everyone enjoys it, and I really hope that we'll see more about these kids; Odd and Erik really do need a good home.

Hugs and God Bless,

Ilúvantír

Another Editor's Notes:

Great job, Phone. I am duly impressed.

Once again we have a heartwarming story from The Phone. We always can depend on The phone for interesting story lines topped off in this case with long distance skiing and plenty of love. It's the next best thing to being there. I thought it was nice to have Even and Odd skiing in tandem, along the tracks.

I have seen The Northern Lights, and they are indeed, very beautiful. I understand that recently, scientists have have figured out what causes them, which was something that had been puzzled about for many years. 

Here is a little point of possible interest. If you have a broadcast band radio or a radio that receives signals around five hundred kilocycles, if you tune it to the lowest frequency, in the early morning, on crisp cold winter days, just before dawn, you will hear something called the dawn chorus. It is, I believe, caused by the same thing that causes the northern lights and it is a beautiful sound, something you will not soon forget. 

 Comments greatly appreciated at The Phone