One clear night in Reynosa, Tamaulipas, Mexico, my brother and I found ourselves gazing up at the star-studded sky from my aunt’s house. It was a crisp December evening, the date etched in my memory: December 1st, 1991, around 10 PM. We were casually scanning the heavens, hoping to catch a glimpse of satellites gliding silently above. But what unfolded before our eyes was something far more astonishing.
Suddenly, what appeared to be a single bright object zipped swiftly across the sky. Then another followed, and then another — a breathtaking formation unfolded. At least seven glowing objects marched in pairs, maintaining an exact distance from each other, moving together as if choreographed by some mysterious force. Their colors shifted subtly as they sped along, casting a surreal glow against the spotless night.
We tried to tell others what we saw, but explanations came with easy dismissals: “They’re just satellites,” they said. But who had ever seen satellites dance in such a precise formation, changing colors, and moving at that speed? This sight was unlike anything ordinary, a spectacle that challenges what we believe about the skies above Reynosa.
Looking back, that five-minute encounter felt like a glimpse into the unknown, a silent message from the cosmos that still beckons my curiosity. To any who seek answers or share the fascination with the unexplained, this sighting remains a haunting reminder that the universe holds mysteries far beyond our grasp.