The green flash

Do you have a second? More precisely, would you take the time to wait for a second of a natural phenomenon? What if that second meant seeing something you’ve never seen before, perhaps didn’t even know existed? Would you wait, in patience and focus, to see an amazing flash of light?

That light is the green flash that sometimes throbs briefly at the moment of sunset and sunrise, a green ray visible above the upper rim of the sun’s disk. The burst normally lasts for little more than a second.

As summer fades, many folks spend equally-fading leisure days next to big water, watching sunsets, waiting for sunrises. The elusive flash of emerald is best seen over a distant, unobstructed horizon, such as over large water—Lake Superior comes to mind—when part of the sun briefly changes color as rays are bent by the weak prism of the atmosphere.

At sea in 1907, professor M.E. Mulder wrote, “…at the same moment at which the last tip of the sun disappeared below the horizon, there suddenly shot, straight upwards, a clear narrow green ray, which vanished as suddenly as it appeared.”

The best watching is at sunset because one needs to pinpoint the last visible rim edge of the sinking sun (it’s hard to predict the first visible rim edge of the rising sun). A far, clear horizon is needed, such as over the expanse of water, though seeing the green flash is also possible over land.

The green flash is rarely the “straight upwards” burst that Professor Mulder described. The most common flash is oval and flat, over water, when the water surface is colder than the air. Even then, if and when it might occur, don’t blink. The green flash is more fleeting than a meteor.

In the 1862 novel “The Green Ray,” French writer Jules Verne’s heroine searched for the fascination of a mysterious phenomenon, and saw the green flash, “a green in which no artist could ever obtain on his palette.” In the “Pirates of the Caribbean” movies, the green flash signifies a soul coming back to this world from the dead. And English weather lore claims, “Glimpse you ere the green ray, count the morrow a fine day.”

I have not glimpsed the mystical and unpredictable green. Not because I have looked and failed, but because I have not looked, not previously knowing of the opportunity. I have watched many sunsets over Lake Superior, and a few over the Pacific Ocean, but did not know to look for the green ray. Next time, I will.

Have you seen it? Looked for it? Perhaps this is the August, when the Perseid meteors take over the night, to see the green light at that just-right moment of sunset. If you are sky stalker, a star gazer, a planet chaser, perhaps the green light should be on your list, that list with eclipses, Milky Way nights and Northern Lights.

I want to see the green flash at the top of the setting sun—a refraction for my reflection. It won’t be easy, though the time spent looking will surely be serene, embracing one’s soul. In the watch for one second, life will slow.

Dave Greschner, retired sports/outdoors editor at the Rice Lake Chronotype, writes about nature and the outdoors, pursues nature photography, and is the author of “Soul of the Outdoors.” He can be reached at davegreschner@icloud.com.