The American South — a place whose inhabitants typically do not suffer from Siberian air pockets and frozen nose hairs — is now experiencing the wonder of the northern lights.

In recent months, residents of Tennessee, Texas and even the Florida Keys have reported seeing their skies dance with the seemingly supernatural hues of greens, violets, blues and reds.

They shared their once-in-a-lifetime glee on social media, posting pictures of our arctic lights pulsing above the palm trees. I'm sure people who photographed the spectacle from Key West had to set down their piña coladas or step out of their hot tubs just so they could reach for their iPhones.

Well, that's fantastic. Let's democratize the aurora borealis. Make it visible in every state and subtropical island, as accessible as a Happy Meal. And if they happen to miss it one night, they should be able to stream it on demand.

Look, I don't begrudge that our northern lights decided to take their show on the road and spread their razzle-dazzle to an entirely new audience.

But weren't they ours?

Winters in Minnesota are, shall we say, a bit extra. We've paid our cold tax in the form of all-wheel drive and heating bills, snow boots and balaclavas. So the northern lights were a sacred prize that helped take the edge off our suffering. They've long held special meaning in our part of the world. From the Inuit to the Ojibwe, many Native cultures believe the lights are the spirits of their ancestors dancing or playing in the sky.

So, why are the northern lights visible so far south lately?

First of all, the phenomenon is caused when the charged particles from the sun collide with gases in the Earth's atmosphere. The sun is basically sneezing these ions into space. The Earth's magnetic field deflects many of those particles, but others become trapped. Those billions of bursts of energy look to us like flashes of light, most often seen near the North Pole (think northern Canada, Russia and Scandinavia), where the magnetic field is weakest.

But when the solar eruption is especially powerful, it stretches the aurora oval farther south. That made the lights viewable from a large swath of the United States as recently as last week.

Scientists say the sun is at its peak of an 11-year cycle for solar activity, which is why we're seeing so many stunning displays this year. The solar storm that enchanted us last spring was the strongest in 21 years.

Back in May, I was celebrating a friend's birthday party at his condominium complex in the North Loop. Someone ran inside and shouted, "You can see the northern lights!" We all dashed onto the rooftop to ogle the sight, far above the light-polluting skyscrapers. Rivers of green and then silver shifted across the sky. Many group selfies ensued. The aurora miraculously fell into our lap.

It couldn't have been more different from other times I tried to view the northern lights — staying up late, driving up north, and glimpsing a disappointment.

One of my co-workers, an out-of-state transplant, has experienced similar aurora letdowns since arriving in Minnesota. Vivid curtains appeared, but only with what he considers cellphone "camera trickery," rather than the naked eye. "The juice just doesn't seem worth the squeeze," he lamented.

Last Thursday when the lights made another appearance, I was talking on a panel about journalism at a nonprofit's annual gala in Golden Valley. My friend Chao said we should try to check out the northern lights as soon as we got out.

I peered up from the parking lot, but saw nothing but a regular metro-area night sky. I headed back home and forgot about them. It was a school night and I was fast asleep by 10.

I guess my sole experience with this cosmic spectacle in May was accidental, just as it may have been for many of the Floridians and Texans in tank tops and shorts who were lucky enough to witness the celestial splendor. Solar physicists predict that the dazzling shows we've seen in 2024 might be just the beginning, that the streaks of light might continue for at least another year.

So enjoy our not-so-northern lights, the rest of America. You can spend your whole life searching for it, but sometimes the most satisfying aurora experience is the one that comes to you in your own backyard.