I'm hardly alone, but in my life I've witnessed some odd-goings on in the night sky. My father, who, long ago, just post WW2, worked at Wright-Patterson airbase in Ohio, was the first person I can remember who retold UFO stories he'd heard around work, from pilots who'd encountered weird objects in the sky they could not explain. Dad was an amateur astronomer of sorts, and he bequeathed a love of standing outside at night to view the celestial show. I lament today's light pollution. When I was a child, you could see horizon to horizon from most suburban backyards, and it just such a place that Dad taught me constellations.
Fast forward thirty+ years to a few vacations spent on an island near Portsmouth, NH. It was a primitive kind of campground. Wash water was rationed to one pitcher in the morning; there was no water source on the island. A smoking ban was strictly observed because of the danger of fires. This was a New England church camp, so some hardship was expected--and, in fact, welcomed--by the Yankees who attended. Meal time was when there was food, too, so when the bell rang, you better be there!
The wind-swept beauty of the place and the silence (that's gone today--too many bellowing off shore tour boats) were what we all enjoyed. Painters went to paint, writers to write. Kids had scheduled activities, so moms would have a break from childcare. A lot of people, my mother-in-law who brought us there included, simply sat and watched the sun rise and set from rocking chairs on the front porch, reading or talking among themselves.
We were all supposed to attend morally improving lectures, but some of us did not. We, instead, walked through a maze of gigantic wild rose bushes until we reached the opposite side of the island. Here, mighty winter storms had cleared the land right down to the granite bones. Among the boulders, we hung out and watched the ocean below send huge waves against the cliffs, while the ground trembled beneath our feet. There was an immense seagull colony in one area, a place we respectfully avoided. It was that or get pooped on and pecked by angry birds, guarding their fledglings.
Sometimes we went into the wild rose thicket, a stickery maze, especially at night. We'd walk to a cleared spot by the obelisk, doubtless a 19th Century Masonic relic. This was a great place to hang out, beneath the monument pointing into the star filled sky. You could hear the constant booming waves, the bell buoys ringing, see the lighthouse nearer in periodically sweep the ocean with light.
On one particular night, listening to the waves, watching the stars and planets and the airplanes heading toward Boston, a friend and I were sitting by the obelisk, discussing "life the universe and everything" when several moving lights in the sky caught our attention. Three points of light suddenly moved into view, appearing to fly in a triangle formation. We were used to watching all the air traffic from there, but this seemed odd.
Why were all three moving at the same speed? We commented on this and began watching, joking as we did about UFOs. There had been a spate of such news recently in New Hampshire, near where my friend lived. As soon as we wondered aloud about this, the movement of the three lights ceased. They did not wink like airplanes or make any noise. Next, the triangle began moving again, slowly, staying in formation.
They appeared to be coming toward the island now. Two more lights appeared, moving in from the periphery of our view with great speed. Again the three lights stopped, hanging in the night sky.
After a few breathless moments, they moved into a new geometry. Now it was a pentagon, one which appeared to be moving in our direction. The atmosphere around us seemed to crackle. My friend and I turned to face one another, there in the darkness.
"What if it knows we're watching?"
As soon as she whispered that, one of the lights broke from the others and rushed toward us. We cowered on the ground as it passed overhead, very fast. There was absolutely no sound as there would have been if this had been a plane. As we watched, it turned and flew directly into what we'd earlier thought was just a brighter star near the horizon, maybe a planet. The other four lights, in a rapid train, followed, disappearing one by one into that same large "star." For a grand finale, the "star," surged into the sky dome and, in a wink, was gone. Gone as if it had never been.
We got to our feet and threaded our way through the looming maze faster, I'll bet, than anyone ever had before, day or night.
Crazy? Hallucinating? Paranoid? Of course, when we tried to describe what we'd seen, that was the reception we received. At last we gave up and comforted ourselves. At least, another person had seen what we had seen.
~Juliet Waldron
www.julietwaldron.com
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