My pink smudge.

Terrific daughter Elisabeth called dear wife Karen, excited with the news that she was across the street, chasing the Northern Lights.

We suited up the cherished rescue mutt and joined her in the parking lot of the town offices that offered a clear view to the northern sky.

I snapped with my iPhone.

Surely didn’t capture the majesty like so many photos I subsequently saw on social media, from our neighborhood to way down south. First time every in my six decades that I caught even a glimpse, this slight pink smear.

I will continue trying every time social-media-hawking Elisabeth says they’re out there.