Tired from lack of sleep, my friend, Sarah Ohmann, and I rose with the first bird calls. We had arrived at the Buffalo Bay Campground on Wisconsin’s Bayfield Peninsula well past midnight, and stayed up until 2:00 a.m., watching a spectacular display of northern lights. The slowly undulating luminous threads wove a web of light high overhead. A pale, gossamer green veil hanging on the horizon suddenly billowed out over the dark forms of the Apostle Islands, silhouetting the nearest island against the barely lighter surface of the lake, stopping our conversation and enticing us to stay up into the small hours of the morning.