One crisp October evening in Mississauga, Ontario, my friend beckoned me from the living room with an urgent whisper — she’d just spotted strange orbs drifting silently above the trees behind our house. At first, skeptical, I joined her gaze, and soon enough, a glowing sphere emerged, its light eerily steady as it glided into view. It seemed to slip behind us, vanishing only to be followed moments later by another orb, which danced with a strange, wavy rhythm — up and down, sketching graceful arcs over the houses nearby. The center of this orb grew increasingly bright, as if pulsing with some inner life.
Not long afterward, it was joined by three more orbs taking flight one after the other. Their movements felt almost playful, as if they were racing—darting faster and faster, weaving intricate formations that no ordinary aircraft could replicate. These shimmering spheres, white-grey and at times strikingly silver, challenged all logic. I initially assumed the first orb might have been a loose object carried by the wind. But the rest, moving with such deliberate precision, suggested something far beyond natural forces.
Counting them proved difficult — they might have looped and doubled back— but there were at least four distinct orbs. The entire event lasted close to ten minutes, leaving an undeniable imprint of wonder and uncertainty. This was my first encounter with phenomena so baffling I was left questioning all I’d believed about the skies above.
Interestingly, my friend, normally a skeptical cynic about strange sightings, confessed she too couldn’t find a conventional explanation. We agreed, whatever these were, they certainly felt otherworldly — not just lights, but intelligent, purposeful entities darting above Lake Ontario. This experience deepened both my curiosity and awe, reminding me sometimes the night sky holds secrets that defy reason and ignite the imagination.