On a quiet evening in Ajijic, Jalisco, my wife and I found ourselves drawn out to our outdoor jacuzzi by an unexpected spectacle. Around 10pm, a glowing red light emerged rapidly from the west-southwest horizon, tracing a graceful, silent arc beneath a moderate cloud cover. At first, we mistook it for an aircraft’s navigation light, but its behavior shattered any such assumption.
The object bore no conventional markers: no strobe lights, no green starboard gleam, no engine drone. In our tranquil rural surroundings, the night air was still and undisturbed—yet here was this glowing sphere, bright with a steady white light dancing alongside its fiery red glow. We ceased our music and silenced the jacuzzi pump, straining for any mechanical hum. But the night held only silence.
The sphere moved swiftly, covering an impressive arc of roughly 100 degrees in about 45 seconds, maintaining a smooth, rapid course from west-southwest to northeast. It vanished beyond the roof of our house, leaving behind a lingering sense of wonder and an unsettling question: what truly slipped silently through the sky that night?
As a retired oil executive and a business administrator, my wife and I are no strangers to observation and analysis, yet this encounter defies simple explanation. This was no aircraft, no drone. It was something else—enigmatic, spectral, a silent visitor from the darkened heavens above Ajijic.