On a quiet evening in Manchester, New Hampshire, something unusual captured my attention while I was observing the Eta Aquarid meteor shower. A single light appeared in the sky, traveling slowly from northwest to southeast. Initially, it resembled just an ordinary plane light, something familiar and unremarkable. But then, it stopped moving abruptly and began a surreal dance—circling first from left to right, then pausing, then right to left, and back again, forming large, deliberate orbits.
This spectacle went on for a full eight minutes. The light moved with an intelligence that defied any conventional aircraft or satellite. It returned to its original position after drawing a big circle, then remained still. I rushed inside to grab a better camera, as my phone could barely capture this distant, tiny point of light, likely high above in the atmosphere. But by the time I stepped back outside, the mysterious light had vanished.
This experience, set against the backdrop of a quiet spring night, left an indelible impression. The eerie, deliberate movements and the sheer duration of the event made it impossible to dismiss as a mere optical illusion or common aerial phenomenon. It’s moments like these that invite us to gaze upward with wonder, questioning what secrets the skies might hold above Manchester tonight.