When the aurora notifications pop up on my phone, at first I ignore them. It’s already a busy evening: my son has an afterschool club, Scouts, and a convoluted homework project to complete between times, leaving scarcely space for tea. But he gets the alerts too, and shows me the red graph peaks indicating that Earth’s magnetic field is already exceeding 800 nanoteslas.
When the time comes for pick-up from Scouts, my husband, Roy, persuades me to come. On the return trip I doze off watching the fat, waxing half moon, and only wake when we pull up somewhere that isn’t home. Roy has detoured to our habitual skywatching spot on the Stray, a long, straight road that undulates across the Castle Howard estate.
