One cool July night in 2008, as the clock neared 1 AM in New Glasgow, Nova Scotia, an extraordinary sight unfolded above the darkened skies—a fleeting visitor unlike any shooting star I’d ever seen. It appeared at first like a normal meteor streaking boldly across the sky, its bright tail cutting through the darkness in a swift, brilliant arc. But then, within moments, the spectacle transformed.
The luminous streak halted mid-flight, defying every expectation. Suddenly, it shifted — the fiery tail vanished, replaced by a glowing duo of red and green lights blinking rhythmically. The display was brief but intense, reminiscent of something out of a Star Trek episode where the ordinary bends into the extraordinary, shifting from a speeding comet to a stationary beacon in the blink of an eye.
This bizarre dance lasted barely two seconds before the object resumed its flight, once again becoming a shooting star streaking silently out of view. What remained was the lingering aura of wonder and the distinct impression that we are not alone under these vast Canadian skies. Such an event invites endless speculation — could it be a craft from another world, experimenting with forms and speed beyond our current understanding?
This encounter, vivid and quick as it was, challenges our perceptions of the night sky, urging us to keep watching and wondering. The flashing lights and sudden change in trajectory remain etched in memory, a reminder that the universe still holds mysteries waiting to be explored.