On a crisp night in North Bay, Ontario, an extraordinary sight unfolded that still lingers in my memory with unsettling clarity. It was just past 5 AM, and as I gently rocked my restless little one back to sleep, I glanced out the window facing our bed. There, suspended in the dark sky, was a brilliant light, shaped like a diamond or a plus sign, casting a glow that wasn’t quite like any star I’d seen before. Its light was candle-white with a hint of purple, intense and mesmerizing. At first, I thought it was merely a very bright star, maybe the North Star, but something felt different.
The night was clear, and stars peppered the sky as usual, but none matched this luminous visitor. I looked away briefly, distracted by the baby’s restlessness and the tiredness that came from fighting through a cold. In that moment, my husband’s sudden panic snapped me back to the window. He had seen the light darting swiftly toward our house, its shape glowing like a honeycomb beneath, pulsing quietly but powerfully.
He describes it as a swirling dance of light, moving with a merry-go-round rhythm. The hues flickered—soft candle flames tinged with purple that cast eerie silent vibrations through the stillness. These vibrations, rhythmic and palpable, hummed deep in the air: “whommm… whommm… whomm.” The craft hovered, looming closer than anything we had ever witnessed, lighting up our bedroom as if it had invaded our personal sanctuary.
Then, as fast as it arrived, the diamond-shaped anomaly vanished into the night sky, leaving behind only the faintest echo of its presence. The silence that followed was heavy, filled with awe and the unfathomable mystery of what we had just seen.
That night still haunts me—the piercing light, the quiet hum, and the undeniable feeling that something beyond comprehension was watching us. This encounter in North Bay shattered ordinary reality for a brief, electrifying ten minutes, forever altering how I see the night skies above.