By Cameron French
YELLOWKNIFE, Northwest Territories (Reuters) - In thesubarctic woods of Canada's Northwest Territories, a quietcrowd searches the moonlit sky, a wave of concern creeping intohushed voices. Time is running out.
Then a funnel of greenish light appears in the east,hanging still at first, then rippling like steam in a glasstube. On the opposite horizon, a waving curtain of colourspreads above the trees, drawing shouts of glee from the crowd.
"It's so romantic!" a woman shrieks, clasping her partner'shand. Others are busy adjusting their digital cameras.
The Northern Lights have made their appearance, thehighlight of the day for a group that has crossed an ocean andendured freezing temperatures to seek them out.
More formally known as aurora borealis, the lights havemade the northern mining centre of Yellowknife -- populationroughly 20,000 -- a travel hub for mostly Japanese touristseager to take advantage of the town's nearly ideal viewingconditions.
While Alaska and Scandinavia boast their own borealisviewing industries, local operators claim the conditionsoutside Yellowknife -- flat and for much of the year very, verycold -- are perfect.
As well, the city's proximity to the "aurora oval", amagnetic band that circles the magnetic pole in the upperNorthern Hemisphere, means the lights can occur at nearly anypoint in the sky.
And so a cottage industry has risen to handle the estimated6,000 tourists who annually pump millions of dollars into thelocal economy during the prime winter viewing months.
While the territory boasts 11 official languages --English, French, and nine native tongues -- it's English andJapanese you'll find on menus in the better hotels.
Air Canada, meanwhile, has introduced a direct flight fromits Asian travel hub of Vancouver, British Columbia, duringwinter months to keep up with demand.
On a recent night-time venture to a viewing spot about 30km (20 miles) outside of town, tourists are crammed into twoschool buses in heavy parkas, snow pants and ski masks.
Following a short trek across a frozen lake, the group isshepherded into a heated tent for a short presentation inJapanese about the lights.
Maho, who did not give her surname, has made the trek fromVancouver where she works at Starbucks as part of a work-abroadprogram. She will spend three evenings out at the site, hopingthat at least one will provide ideal viewing conditions.
Asked about the popularity of the lights in her nativeJapan, she said: "We learn about them in school, so we comehere."
Hideo Nagatani, manager of local operator Aurora Village,says the appeal for the Japanese is simply a cultural love ofnature's grandeur.
"It's like during the fall season, many Japanese flock toQuebec and Ontario for the changing of colours on the leaves,"he said.
"Where there is something very spectacular, they willtravel around the world to really see it."
CURTAIN OF LIGHT
Caused by the collision of solar-charged protons andelectrons with the earth's upper atmosphere, the borealistypically appears as green and red curtains of light that danceacross the sky.
Several cultures have their own folklore surrounding thelights. An Algonquin Indian myth held the lights were the soulsof ancestors dancing around a fire.
The Japanese fascination with the lights also has its ownbit of folklore: that conceiving a child beneath the lightswill bring good luck.
One Thursday evening in February, the crowd seemed set fordisappointment as clouds obscured the sky. Small snowflakeswhirled, sparkling in the occasional camera flash. Thetemperature was minus 20 degrees Celsius (minus 4 degreesFahrenheit).
"It needs to be colder," says Clayton Abichon, the lonefluent English speaker on staff this evening, referring to theabnormally balmy conditions for a mid-February evening 500 km(300 miles) south of the Arctic circle.
So when about 30 minutes before midnight the sky finallycleared, a rush of humanity bursts from the tents, where manyhad been taking refuge from the cold.
The display fades at one end the sky and starts at theother, almost moving around the horizon at times, while sleddogs howled in their kennel farther down the frozen lake shore.
The crowd oohed and ahed as it would at a fireworksdisplay, with many lying on their backs on the snowy ground fora better look.
Most will be back the following night, hoping for evencolder temperatures and another light show worth crossing anocean for.
(Reporting by Cameron French; Editing by Eddie Evans)
