Driving northbound on Highway 101 towards San Mateo around 8:25 PM, just as the sun was dipping below the horizon, something unusual caught my eye. The sky was crystal clear, not a cloud in sight, perfect for an evening drive but also for unexpected sights. At first, I noticed two bright streaks of light, moving downward slightly and angled to the left of vertical — parallel and striking in their intensity.
This strange vision held for a moment before the two lights appeared to freeze, no longer descending but suspended silently in the dusk. I nudged my husband, who was driving, urging him to look. Neither of us could explain the phenomenon. Expecting to recognize an ordinary aircraft or some atmospheric effect as we neared, the mystery deepened instead.
As we approached, the bright lights dimmed to a dull, greyish hue, almost as if the fading sunlight was playing tricks on us. Then, just above the fading streaks, I glimpsed a dark, solid silhouette hovering—wide from side to side but shorter in height, with a textured outline that wasn’t smooth or uniform. It remained motionless, unlit, an enigmatic presence anchored in the evening sky.
We took an exit ramp and parked hastily, rushing back toward the freeway to get a better look—but the enigmatic object and its twin lights had vanished without a trace.
The stillness, the clear sky, the subtle yet unexplainable presence—this surreal moment left an impression that lingers. What was that silent sentinel above the twin streaks of light in the San Mateo twilight? The question remains, haunting the memory of that quiet drive into the night.