On the evening of April 16, 2016, in Vancouver, BC, I found myself sitting quietly in front of the Queen Elizabeth Theater, soaking in the urban scene at dusk. The air was crisp with a steady west-to-east wind, the sky partly clouded, and the city was alive yet calm. My attention was drawn to the tallest building to the left in the distance, where a man paced nervously along the rooftop edge, his movements filled with unease. Suddenly, high above and slightly to the right of where he stood, a dark, disc-shaped object emerged just beneath the clouds — a mysterious sphere gliding silently against the wind.
This silent orb moved deliberately toward the man on the roof, gliding in a fluid, almost purposeful manner. It hovered just above him, frozen in place as if observing his every move. The man seemed oblivious, his gaze focused downward, lost in thought. Then, another man appeared on the rooftop. As they conversed and stepped away from the edge, one pointed skyward. For a fleeting moment, both men glanced toward the silent sphere that had captivated me.
After a brief pause of around 60 seconds, the sphere retraced its path, drifting quietly back into the shadows of the clouds from which it had emerged. Despite the gusty winds that sent birds soaring rapidly below, this enigmatic object displayed no disturbance, moving with a calm and eerie grace.
Regretfully, although I had my phone at hand, I didn’t capture the event on video—a missed chance to document this eerie visitor. The weather that evening was conducive to long-range visibility, with clear skies extending up to 20 miles, a temperature of 54°F, and a barometric pressure indicating stable conditions.
This haunting encounter with the silent sphere in Vancouver’s twilight left an indelible mark — a moment suspended where the ordinary brushed against the unexplained, a spectral observer in an ordinary cityscape. Such sightings stir the imagination, igniting a profound curiosity about what mysteries hover just beyond our perception.