It is minus twenty-five degrees Celcius and the sheer cold is biting my skin. The air inhaled makes my lungs cough and the water vapor depositing on my facial hair instantly freezes as I exhale. There is no sounds around me but the cracking snow under my boots. The ice crystals reflect every bit of light coming from the stars above. The night sky is absolutely pristine. It’s one of the darkest I have seen to date. However a strange light seems to often brighten the sky. At times it remains a slow-moving whitish glow but it sometimes explodes into a firework of colors, shapes and brightnesses. The aurora borealis lightens everything up underneath: trees, hills, ice and even the water from the northern Norwegian fjords. There truly is something inexplicably magical about the polar nights.