Elizabeth Bourne

“We who have known true darkness have nothing to fear from mere night.” Overheard in a cafe.

In the high Arctic, in December, there is no light. Unless you’ve experienced this phenomenon it’s difficult to understand. People who come to Longyearbyen in December are shocked by the total absence of normal light. But there are compensations. The full moon can be bright enough to read by. When the sky is clear, and you’re outside the town’s light pollution, the stars glint fiercely in the black sky. And of course, the aurora -- our reminder that the sun has not forgotten us -- dances over the frozen mountains. The absence of daylight creates a surreal world, where shadows stretch and curve over snow drifts, and the landscape becomes a tone poem of muted color. It’s a time for introspection and tranquility. In this stark yet beautiful environment, I’m inspired by the resilience of the human spirit in the far north. Dark Season is a time to enjoy community -- holiday celebrations, concerts, coffees, special dinners. Life continues at a slower pace. For those who live at these high latitudes Polar Night is an eagerly anticipated rest from the manic time of the Midnight sun, and then when the light comes back there is primal rejoicing in the sun’s return. 

In a place where extremes of light and dark are the norm, there are lessons to be learned from Polar Night. These photographs explore the isolation, and also the joy, in becoming one with the dark.