On a frigid March night in Wasilla, Alaska, I was captivated by the shimmering display of the Northern Lights outside my window. As I prepared for bed, I stepped outside to savor the celestial show, inviting my girlfriend to join me. For a couple of minutes, we admired the dancing colors until something unusual caught my eye above the mountain range near Hatcher Pass.
Four reddish-orange lights appeared, moving east to west in an erratic, wavering manner that defied any ordinary explanation. Initially, I suspected helicopters flying in formation, but the lead light suddenly slowed and hovered silently in place. The others followed suit, forming a perfect triangle and settling into a haunting stillness. The biting cold at 18 degrees didn’t diminish the surreal silence; no noise came from the lights against a backdrop of clear starry skies and vibrant auroras.
It dawned on me that these were no conventional aircraft or natural phenomena. This mysterious triangle of lights lingered for about 4 to 5 minutes, leaving an indelible mark of awe and unease in the Alaskan night.