Driving south on Route 1 near Los Cabos, Baja California Sur, an eerie spectacle unfolded that I can’t shake from my memory. It was just past 9:30 PM on June 26, 2006, when my 10-year-old daughter pointed toward the southwest sky, several degrees above the moon. There floated a large, bright white light, emitting a fog-like spotlight effect directed toward the earth. The object remained perfectly still, unlike any aircraft I know — no engine hum, no blinking lights. It was as large as the moon itself that night, surrounded by a subtle aura.
As a pilot, I’ve seen many things in the sky, but this was unlike any conventional craft. The light hung motionless for about five minutes, casting an unearthly glow beneath it, almost as if it was suspended in a thick veil of mist. Then, in a smooth, deliberate movement, it retracted upwards, away from the earth, diminishing slowly until it vanished entirely over about fifteen seconds.
I’ve never consumed alcohol when flying or encountering such phenomena; this sighting was vivid, clear, and impossible to explain through earthly means. That night sky over Los Cabos holds a secret that defies logic — a quiet visitor from beyond, wrapped in light and mystery. For anyone who hunts the skies for unexplained wonders, this encounter is a vivid reminder that some lights don’t just shine; they beckon us to look beyond our world.