The day of the event, I had been working on an art history article developing a new interpretation of Poussin's "The Arcadian Shepherds." During the afternoon, I made a major breakthrough that appears to have "solved" the riddle of the painting's significance, which is, I should remind you, on the same level as the Great Pyramids and Stonehenge. At around 7:30, I went downstairs to update my blog, which malfunctioned as I was trying to save the draft. I then decided to take my dog for a walk. I was listening to "Jam" by Michael Jackson. As we were leaving the driveway, she pulled very hard at the leash, forcing me to go right. I found this odd, as she has gone left every time before; we have a route that we typically follow. We eventually reached the Brattleboro Common, where I observed the first vessel hovering above the Brattleboro Retreat. It was a consistent, integrated structure, similar in appearance to a cluster of red grapes, composed of lights of varying sizes, flickering in a chaotic rhythm, an asynstactic pattern emerging out of chaos loop. The pattern of lights implied the existence of a larger form concealed by a kind of tesseract, disguised as a high-altitude jet liner in a way that was not entirely convincing; the illusionistic effect appeared to be intentional, as if was intended to convey an aesthetic effect. The vessel hovered silently over the Retreat before vanishing over the West River. As I was fumbling with my iPhone, another vessel appeared, much higher in altitude and made up of two egg-shaped golden lights surrounded by a triangular pattern of blinking lights. I made out the faint outline of a cigar shape behind these lights, but it appeared to be truncated in the middle. I then turned to my right, facing South. The sky was covered in a kind of hyperdimensional manifold made up of a polychromatic fingerprint. I saw a red orb dancing upwards like an ember. As I followed its trajectory with my eye, I noticed what appeared to be an emanation of white light, dancing inside of time-space. The visual effects seemed to be responsive to my gaze. The craft(s) appeared in some way to be an optical illusion, a demonstration of a cloaking mechanism. I was astonished beyond words by these two vessels, the sight of which moved me to tears. I then exited the park and proceeded to walk around my neighborhood, Where I saw three more vessels: a steady, pulsating red orb, an irregular assemblage similar to the first vessel, and a curved red and green cluster of lights similar in shape to a caterpillar. During this phase of the encounter I experienced a profound shift in consciousness, a communication with a feminine intelligence who conveyed a profoundly sad, and to a certain extent unspeakable, message, related to Nicolas Poussin's painting "A Dance to the Music of Time," the House of Dionysus at Paphos, and Pyramus and Thisbe, whose tragic "double death" occurred in the shadow of the mulberry tree. Further research on my part has uncovered what appears to be a temporal anomaly, although I won't go into details here. The next morning, I woke up to find a photo of the first vessel (or rather, it's absence) on my phone. The image appears on its face to be a typical nighttime image, but the digital noise has an apparent structure. I cannot reproduce the image from any angle, and the arrangement of lights does not appear to be consistent. It appears to be inspired by Malevich's "Black Square," and is similar to another image that appeared on my phone under similar mysterious circumstances after a sighting in June in Berkeley of a triangular craft. I believe this be a xenoaesthetic text. The next day, I returned to the site of the encounter. I walked past a dumpster next to the Mulberry Tree early childhood center. A piece of red plastic caught my eye, surrounded by a bunch of puzzle pieces, each of them differently colored and apparently conceived as art objects. I picked them up, put them in my pocket, and walked home.