|Occurred : 8/20/2009 21:00 (Entered as : 08/20-09 21:00)
Reported: 8/27/2011 6:54:21 PM 18:54
Location: Lyle, WA
|Multiople haloed domes, orb with lightning bolts, beam, rectangular structure, 7 dancing objects in formation twinkling white and red
My husband and I are no strangers to UFO’s and other oddities, both from an early age. We have experienced these alone and in the company of others. By far one of the most dramatic sightings occurred on the night of August 20, 2009, preceded by a strange observation on August 19th.
On the 19th, we went to our favorite local star-gazing site, about 20 minutes from our home, on Fisher Hill Road above Lyle, Washington. This is on the west edge of the Klickitat River gorge. The sky was clear. We arrived as the sky was darkening, and set up our recliners to observe the sky for meteors, planets, and satellites in our usual manner. Various aircraft pass over the area. There were surprisingly few satellites in evidence that night. We saw a few meteors.
We rotated our chairs for several vantages, finally settling on facing the northwest sky. It didn’t seem like we had been there long before we observed a bright white light appearing and traveling toward us from the NW, at about 45 degrees. It quickly expanded into about the size of a quarter at arm’s length, quite bright, and of an iridescent quality, with brilliant rays surrounding it. We were excited, when suddenly it took a sharp turn to the right, shrinking down quickly to a speck as it disappeared to the north. Figuring that was the best we would see that night, we decided to head home, and were both surprised to find that we had been gone for 5 hours. It seemed like much less, perhaps 2 at the most.
The next night we both had a strong desire to return to the same spot. We arrived at dusk, observing a few small, scattered cumulus clouds low in the west. To the north, although the sky was clear, we saw sheet lightening, so set up our chairs facing NE up the Klickitat gorge, where we could see the west edge of Grayback Mountain. As we watched, the sheet lightening expanded into 4 areas of inception which did not move left or right but rather expanded toward us. The nearest area appeared to be right behind Grayback Mountain, the next closest in the direction of Mt. Adams to the NW, and the 2 other areas much farther to the north, northeast. It was an entertaining enough show, coupled with our usual stargazing.
As the sky darkened, so began the oddest show either of us had ever seen. Enormous haloed domes began to explode behind Grayback. The interior was a brilliant iridescent white, perhaps twice the size of a large full moon on the horizon. The halos were about half the diameter of the domes, and about half the brilliance. There were so many of them we could hardly keep our eyes still. They also began to explode from the next closest area to the northwest, but the most action came from behind Grayback at first. We began to see enormous lightning bolts emerge from the domes to the east, then arc back toward the center. Some would connect, and some would not quite, ending in forks. The duration of the domes and the lightning was uncommonly long, so that we could actually study them for a good moment. Throughout the night we heard no thunder whatsoever, and it was quiet enough to hear the occasional passing plane. It was thrilling. As a long time fire-fighter, trained in meteoro! logy, I had never seen anything like it.
After a while I noticed a bright light toward the top of Grayback, a distance west of a few residencial lights that we sometimes see. I observed for a while, wondering if it was a star rising, when my husband said “Has that light always been there?” I said I didn’t think so, I’d been watching it for a while to see if it was rising. It seemed odd. We pondered it a bit. The domes were going crazy, and as I observed them slightly to the east, my husband cried out “Whoa!” and my eye was drawn back to the diminishing light of an enormous white beam that he had seen shoot out from the small light toward the northwest, extending high into the sky. After it retracted, we watched the light turn bright red for a long moment, return to white, then rise slowly above Grayback, growing in size and brilliance, resembling the light we had seen the night before. Then it sank slowly down, contracted to its original size and position.
As if things weren’t odd enough, the light began to exude a sort of mist toward its left edge, which gradually brightened and expanded, revealing a huge rectangular structure atop Grayback, impossibly large, perhaps fully the width of the domes, which were still exploding. The rectangle had clearly defined edges, was silver-gray in color, and had vertical lines dividing it into five even segments. We were afforded a long look at this object, asking “Do you see that?!” before it melted again into a mist that gradually retracted into the original white light.
The domes were really picking up now, exploding over the horizon from the area northwest now as well, backed by the constant sheet lightning from the two more distant areas. Occasionally a plane would pass over, clearly heard. We do not recall if the domes were evident at those times, perhaps only the sheet lightning. But things got even stranger.
A white light blinked on to the northeast, perhaps at 30 degrees. It appeared as the light of a low small plane, blinking and twinkling at irregular intervals, yet it remained stationary. Occasionally it would blink red. Then we noticed other similar lights blink on to the east and west, moving south as if to surround us. Indeed they did. There was a total of seven that surrounded us in a horseshoe pattern, open to the north, blinking wildly. We stood up and turned to look up at them as they moved into formation around us and stopped. Then they began blinking and bobbing about wildly in a sort of dance, and we both lifted our arms and danced with them. We had the feeling of complete exultation.
After the dance, they slowly glided off on each side of us, one by one disappearing into the area of the domes, except for the first light which never changed position. We settled back down to watch the dome show, which was really wild by now. We kind of watched our sentry as we called it, the first blinking light. Suddenly I realized that it was a small plane, moving toward us from the east, which could be heard. As we thought “What the…??” the plane passed, and our sentry blinked back on. After a short time a plane approached it from the west, and we watched it blink off, then reappear after the plane had passed.
The domes became less frequent from the Grayback area, and emanated from the northwest area more. The activity gradually lessened. At one point my husband turned his back, and I saw a full, brilliant haloed globe leap high into the air, with a perfect arched bolt of lightning reconnecting to it. It appeared slightly more concentrated than the domes, as one might expect of an object cleared of the horizon, the size of the sun at least. It was amazing.
As things slowed down to occasional sheet lightning, our little sentry friend glided north toward Grayback, disappearing behind it. Finally my husband said, "I think our work here is done." I agreed. We packed up and drove home, both surprised again to find that we had been gone for 4 hours. It didn’t seem that long.
A weird story, I agree. But that’s what happened. We’ve searched for descriptions of this sort of lightning, but have never found anything even close. I’ve never seen bolts of lightning without accompanying thunder, although none of them hit the ground, they all arched back into the domes, or the globe. In spite of our many weird experiences and sightings, including a huge green fireball sighted a month earlier in central Oregon, and a large, slow, low-flying orange globe observed by at least 4 others later in the summer at the Lewis River, we have never seen anything so incredible. We just had to finally share it. We welcome any input.
I have identified our viewing location on GoogleEarth and can give you the exact location.