For as long as I can recall, a lone light lingered endlessly in the northeast sky above Cranbrook. It never twinkled like a star or flickered like a distant airplane; it simply stayed fixed in place, like a silent sentinel watching over us. One restless night, around 3:05 AM, I stepped outside to check on my husband who was unwell, and that’s when everything changed.
I noticed two small white lights accompanied by a flashing white beacon behind them, moving steadily from the west towards that familiar, unmoving light. At first, I convinced myself it was just a plane drawn to the distant glow. But as the object approached, a slow, distant thumping sound filled the air — a rhythmic whump… whump… whump — unlike any engine I’ve heard before.
The triangular shape it formed was unsettling. Three lights arranged without any visible solid structure connecting them, floating silently but with an eerie presence. Then, the most astonishing thing happened: that steadfast light in the northeast disappeared, completely swallowed by this strange craft. I brought my husband out to see if he could offer any rational explanation — a plane, a helicopter — but even he was left uncertain.
The next night, the once-ever-present light was gone. Just empty sky where there had been a beacon for years. What did I witness? Was this a covert retrieval mission, perhaps something sent to recover a satellite? I hope the simplest explanation is the truth because the alternative — that we were being observed or something else entirely more chilling — is too much to contemplate.
This experience has left me with more questions than answers, and I find myself looking at the night sky differently now, wondering what else might be out there, watching quietly from the darkness. If someone else has seen anything in Cranbrook that night, I’d be grateful to hear from them to make sense of this unsettling encounter.