I have a story that I'd like to share. I think it's kind of funny and I still chuckle about it. Let me preface this by saying that I have never seen
an alien spacecraft; the Unidentified Flying Objects, when watched for long enough, turned out to be satellites, birds, or planes. What follows is a
story about the one time that I saw an object in the sky that I could not identify.
It was late where I live, between 11:00pm and midnight. The wife-to-be and I seated ourselves on the front porch, which faces west. We were talking
about extra-terrestrial life, sightings, etc., as we converse about this quite often. It's a bit of a hobby for us, staying up to date with the
latest news and seeking out the most interesting documentaries and programs we could find.
We were sharing a beer between us, looking up at the clear night sky. I noticed a slow moving, very dim light in the northeast sky, seemingly heading
from the northwest to the southeast.
"Look at that slow-moving plane," I said, because to me that's what it looked like. However, I immediately notice that there were no lights beyond
the single source that I was seeing; just a white light; no blinking reds, white, blues, etc. And soon, I discovered there was absolutely no sound,
which made me believe this object might be far away.
My next thought was a satellite, and by this time the wife was watching too. To our amazement, this light within a second multiplied in intensity; I
cannot for sure say by how much. It went from about the brightness of a normal star to something so bright it blotted out all starlight surrounding
it.
Then, within a second, it faded to its original intensity, and then disappeared. Gone. The wife witnessed it just before it became brilliantly
brighter than when I saw it, til it disappeared.
All we could agree upon was, "That was weird." Neither of us had seen anything like it, but in the greater scheme of things, this was pretty
un-dramatic. I was quick to say that it was probably a satellite, but unfortunately, (or fortunately) I couldn't settle upon this option. This light
traveled much slower than satellites that I am normally used to seeing.
So, damnit. I haven't seen an alien spacecraft, but I've finally seen a UFO. How annoying. We chatted for a minute or two about what it would be
like to actually see an alien craft, still intrigued and in awe of what the origin of what we saw might have been.
I looked to the south, and to my amazement, I saw another brilliant white light rise up, seemingly heading towards us. I didn't say anything this
time, but the wife looked in that direction and saw it as well. It rose slowly, and headed towards us, no sound. This object was much, much lower than
the one we'd just seen, I'd say no more than a few hundred feet in the air.
It moved steadily, closer, and all we could see was the bright light. Again, no sound, no blinking lights from our perspective.
I felt my skin flush; I got that feeling one gets when a fever breaks; nausea, and like I might start hallucinating. My wife watched it all the while
but I lowered my eyes to the grass, still facing the direction of the object, but I wouldn't look at it any longer. My breathing became quick and
shallow, but I was doing all in my power not to let the wife know that I was definitely, most positively freaking out.
The darkness of the night began to close in around me as this object continued to approach, one solid light, slow-moving, and no sound.
Alien-abduction stories flashed through my mind. I thought to myself, "No, not now." Just before I thought I would pass out I calmly leaned back and
lay face up on the porch so as not to alarm the wife. I didn't pass out, and as this object approached directly overhead the light became dimmer and
I was able to see a blue flashing light, a red flashing light, and finally hear the sound of engine noise.
So, with that long story, I think I've illustrated that I'm not sure I'm ready to see an alien craft.