On a late November afternoon in Guadalajara, Jalisco, a strange spectacle unfolded that I find difficult to forget. It was around noon when I first started hearing voices, faint whispers that seemed to come from nowhere. Curiosity drew me to turn, and there they were—unusual shapes, silent and enigmatic. Among them, several cylindrical objects floated with an eerie grace, some spherical, others undulating like serpents. I grabbed my camera and took several photos, compelled to capture this strange phenomenon.
The largest object was cylinder-shaped, hovering silently above the city. Its surface was alive with lights that flickered and changed color, casting an unearthly glow against the gray sky. For nearly 20 minutes, this vessel performed a surreal display—it emitted smaller objects that darted around it, like sparks flying from a fire, then vanished as mysteriously as they appeared.
Since that moment, I have witnessed a broad gallery of sky-bound marvels—platters of light, diamond-shaped crafts—but none so haunting and enigmatic as that cylindrical apparition in Guadalajara. Every photo I took tells a story of the unknown, a puzzle wrapped in shifting shadows and unspoken whispers. Who or what controls these objects? What messages do they carry in their flickering lights and silent movements? The city beneath them continues unaware, cloaked in everyday routine while I remain marked by that otherworldly encounter.
My story is not just about sightings but about the texture of the unknown—the way it threads through our world, visible only to those who dare to look up and listen.