One evening in late April 1998, as darkness settled over Markham, Ontario, I witnessed an extraordinary phenomenon that has haunted my thoughts ever since. Near the horizon, far yet unmistakably present, hung a massive luminous object glowing with a soft yellow light. It resembled the planet Saturn, except its ring was inseparably fused to the glowing sphere at its center, an eerie and otherworldly sight.
The scale of this apparition was staggering, especially when compared to nearby buildings. Its sheer size was impossible to ignore. Upon closer observation, I noticed two flashing white lights—one positioned on its crown and another directly beneath its body—like silent sentinels guarding this spectral craft.
Frozen in shock, I reached out to the local authorities only to find that even the police and airport officials could offer no explanation or assistance. Each night since that unforgettable sighting, whenever I pass the spot where it hovered, I find myself glancing upward, hopeful to catch even a fleeting glimpse of that strange, stationary beacon. It remains one of the most baffling and profound experiences of my life, a reminder of how little we truly understand about the skies above.
This encounter remains etched in my memory not only for its surreal imagery but also for the silence it inspired—a silent mystery hanging steadfastly against the night, inviting questions about what might be watching back from beyond our world.