On a clear and dark night in Airdrie, Alberta, my wife and I observed something utterly strange and captivating—a bright light, much larger and more intense than any star, making its way swiftly across the sky. It appeared near the southwestern horizon and shot northeast with remarkable speed, a smooth, purposeful motion that immediately defied any explanation tied to routine aircraft or satellites.
Twice it swerved sharply, subtle yet unmistakeable maneuvers that gripped our attention. What made it profoundly unsettling was its abrupt transformation when it hovered directly overhead: the glowing orb dimmed, shifted into a deep red hue, and vanished entirely within seconds.
Living directly under Calgary’s airport flight path, we’re intimately familiar with how planes illuminate the night and how satellites drift overhead, but this—there was no blinking aircraft light, no familiar mechanical pattern, just a swift, radiant visitor from somewhere unknown. Its fleeting presence left us wondering about the vastness above and what extraordinary phenomena might be drifting through our skies unseen by most.