Okay, so the first thing with the red circles overlapping in the sky was cool, but the friend I was with didn’t have her glasses with her. She couldn’t see it.
The second thing, though, was with a few friends, and we all saw it.
It was a clear night, we were either seniors or juniors in high school, and we were walking along the train tracks that run through Chico. One of us said something like, “What’s that?!” and pointed into the sky. It was hard to make out, because the thing was entirely black and moving very slowly. What I remember most about it was that it appeared like an upright rectangle, and it would block out the stars as it passed in front of them.
We didn’t get to watch it very long, as it soon passed behind some trees and was gone. Maybe 30 seconds max. I think we all just kind of stopped in our tracks and thought something similar to, “that’s definitely not a plane.” It had no lights, and was so black that it made the sky look a dark blue in comparison.
The strangest thing about it that I remember is that when it passed in front of a particular star, the star blinked out, then on, then out, then on again. Almost like there was a giant window in the center of the rectangle, or that it was shaped like a giant arch.
That would have been in 1996, or 1997. I’m sure we told everyone we knew about it at the time, but, it’s just one of those things. Probably a lot of people decided that we were making up a cool story. If you didn’t see it, or haven’t seen anything like it, it’s going to be hard for you to believe. But if you did see it, or have seen something like it, it’s the kind of thing that will change your whole worldview.
We’re not on this planet alone. I know that. And all this time and energy we’re spending to make a living in some sense is just going to waste. I can hardly pay attention to the news or politics anymore. It’s just so much mental masturbation and ego gratification. There’s an entire universe out there, and we are hardly aware of it. What we’re mostly aware of is ourselves, and we can’t seem to get out of our own way for long enough to see what’s on the horizon. I’d say we spend far too much time looking up, looking down, and looking across, and not nearly enough time looking *out*.