We’re driving down a dark road lit by the headlights. We’re surrounded by trees and every now and again there is a caribou or moose on the side of the road. Like a painting, a bright crescent moon is in the corner of the windshield. In the other corner there is a mountain with clouds filled with lightning circling its peak. Every now and then the brush stroked green Aurora floats in the sky accenting the otherwise empty space. Every so often I hear a ping or a pop of rocks on metal. I sit as a passenger listening to Katniss and the beginning of her rebellion while I watch the Canadian night sky from our RV.