On the night of May 20, 2004, the sky over Gila Bend, Arizona, became the stage for an extraordinary encounter that would linger in my mind. Around 9:30 PM, I noticed an unusual formation: seven intense yellowish-orange lights blinking rhythmically, arranged on what soon revealed itself as a flying saucer. Surrounding these dominant lights were at least 30 smaller, twinkling white lights, like a delicate halo shimmering against the dark canvas of the night sky.
As the minutes passed, the flying saucer moved closer until it hovered approximately 100 feet from my truck. The outline of the craft was unmistakable — a perfect disk with dark, tinted windows that reflected no earthly light. For a solid three minutes, I was frozen in awe, watching this silent visitor so near yet utterly otherworldly.
Later, the saucer glided backward smoothly to another parked car nearby, lingering beside it for about five minutes under the watchful stars. Then, without warning, the craft shot straight up into the heavens, vanishing before my eyes to the north, then south, then directly overhead, the bright lights pulsating in a haunting celestial dance.
This surreal spectacle carried on for nearly an hour after its first appearance, the lights gradually dimming until they vanished entirely. That night, in the remote skies over Gila Bend, a flying saucer with dazzling lights painted a memory both vivid and mysterious — a thrilling testament to the unknown that continues to beckon us to look upwards with wonder.