It was a quiet evening on June 17, 2012, around 9:18 PM Pacific Time. I stepped onto my front porch for a cigarette, the night sky stretching vast and dark above me. Suddenly, a brilliant light caught my eye in the southern sky, about 50 to 60 degrees above the horizon. It wasn’t just any ordinary star—it shone with the steady glow of a planet like Jupiter on a clear night, seductive and compelling.
For about 5 to 7 seconds, I was captivated. The light held its intensity briefly before slowly dimming and fading into the blackness, as if swallowed by the night itself. The experience was fleeting, a delicate brush with the unknown, yet it engraved itself firmly in my memory.
Though not flashy or wildly spectacular, this brief luminous visitor was irresistibly intriguing. In the stillness of Estacada’s night, such moments hint at mysteries beyond our grasp, evoking wonder and a subtle thrill. What was this fading beacon in the sky? A trick of light, an otherworldly messenger, or something else altogether? The night keeps its secrets, and sometimes, just sometimes, it reveals a whisper.