About 35 minutes ago, while the sky was brilliantly clear and the sun shone with all its strength, I witnessed something that defied explanation. High above Apodaca, Nuevo León, Mexico, a luminous object caught my eye, moving slowly from the northeast towards the southwest, almost directly overhead at an altitude between 70 and 90 degrees. What struck me immediately was not only its intense brightness but also its eerie stillness—it seemed motionless at first, moving with a slow, deliberate glide that didn’t resemble any plane or balloon I know.
The object’s glow was reminiscent of Mars on a clear night, brilliant and radiant, but here it was, stark white and visible in broad daylight with no need for any optical aid. I know the skies well, having observed numerous high-altitude planes, satellites, meteorological balloons, and know the geography—the city of Apodaca lies roughly 112 miles south of Laredo, Texas, a detail that factors into my certainty that this was something unusual.
The trajectory was puzzling. Initially heading northwest to southwest, it was set to pass about 20 degrees beside the moon but abruptly veered 90 degrees before reaching that point, redirecting towards the southeast. Slightly increasing its speed, it eventually vanished as mysteriously as it had appeared.
This haunting visual, carved against a sunlit sky, raises questions about what truly graces our atmosphere. Was it a secret craft, an unexplained phenomenon, or something else beyond our current understanding? Whatever it was, witnessing its silent journey across the heavens left an indelible mark—a reminder of how much the skies still hold mysteries waiting to be unraveled.