It was just past two in the morning in Edmonton when I stepped outside for one last smoke before bed—and there it was. At first glance, it looked like a lone star shining brightly against the dark sky. But something felt off. This light was unlike any star I’ve ever seen. A subtle aura surrounded it, casting a faint haze, and behind the glow, I caught a shadow moving as if stirred by a gentle breeze.
I rubbed my eyes, wiped my glasses, and focused intently. The light remained, steadfast and strange, hovering there silently on the left side of the moon. Hours passed—an entire hour, maybe more—and still it stayed. The scene was haunting: a blueish-white orb with an eerie shadow just beyond, unmoving yet undeniably present.
I couldn’t help but think back to an episode I had recently watched about mysterious aerial lights reported in Mexico, where witnesses described similar objects—glowing stars with shadows, visible even in broad daylight. What I was experiencing felt strangely connected, yet uniquely unsettling given the late hour and solitude of the moment.
If only there was a 24-hour hotline, a way to share this bewildering encounter as it unfolded. The urge to report this otherworldly sighting burned inside me, but all I could do was watch, marveling at the silent visitor from above. Whatever it was, this enigmatic light left an imprint on my night—and my mind—that I doubt will ever fade.