Camping at Lake Waramaug State Park in New Preston, CT, on a warm summer night in 2005, my girlfriend and I sought solace by the lake to gaze at the stars and unwind. Around 9:30 p.m., I spotted what looked like a large, perfectly horizontal shooting star—a strange sight that immediately caught my attention. Moments later, my girlfriend urged me to look up where she was shining her flashlight. There, moving slowly and in perfect tandem across the sky, were two lights resembling distant stars, spaced far apart.
For nearly two minutes, we watched this enormous, cigar-shaped object glide silently overhead before it vanished—not by descending beyond the horizon or drifting out of sight, but simply disappearing from view. The scale was impossible to ignore; I estimate the craft was at least 400 feet long, with a steady light at each end, no flickering, no flashing, and utter silence accompanying its passage.
What made this encounter even more extraordinary was the object’s apparent disguise. It bore no resemblance to any airplane, weather balloon, shooting star, or known aerial phenomenon. It seemed cloaked, employing a camouflage akin to a soldier blending into the jungle—an impeccable illusion of two separate stars moving as one colossal craft. The precision, silence, and sheer magnitude confirmed beyond doubt that this was something rare and unexplainable.
Having witnessed several unexplained aerial phenomena before, this sighting remains one of the most compelling and irrefutable experiences I’ve ever had. The craft’s silent, controlled course across the night sky left an indelible mark, reinforcing the mystery of what truly traverses our skies under the veil of darkness.