Disc shaped UFO with hundreds of pulsing lights, California
Occurred: 2025-08-14 22:15 Local
Reported: 2025-08-14 02:16 Pacific
Duration: 15 seconds
No of observers: 2
Location: Hayfork, CA, USA
Location details: I was at my home in hayfork
Shape: Disk
Color: Dark in night sky
Estimated Size: Wide as $1 bill at arms length and half as tall
Viewed From: Land
Direction from Viewer: Just to the right of due north.
Angle of Elevation: 34
Closest Distance: Hard to say. In our atmosphere I think
Estimated Speed: Hard to say. Relative to distance and size
Characteristics: Lights on object
Saucer shaped craft with hundreds of pulsing brightening/dimming lights covering the surface. It blended into the night sky very well
Ok this is the recount of my sighting that chat gpt made from all the details I gave from my sighting. I will attach a picture of what I wrote down directly after the sighting that is completely in my own words. (The chat gpt version is still very accurate, and helps to paint the picture better I think or I wouldn't include it)
On August 14th, 2025, about 10:15 PM, I was outside of my home in Hayfork, California. The sky was crystal clear — no clouds at all, stars sharp and bright. I was facing north-northeast when I saw it: a huge, disc-shaped object hanging in the sky, maybe 35 to 40 degrees above the horizon.
The shape was unmistakable — a thin, rounded discus, not thick like a football or loaf of bread. From where I stood, it looked about as wide as a dollar bill held at arm’s length — which, in sky terms, is massive. The closest part to me was the midline of the disc, with the top and bottom curving gently away toward the center, giving it a solid 3-D presence.
What struck me immediately was the surface — it wasn’t smooth and dark like a plane. The entire visible side was covered in what looked like hundreds, maybe thousands, of small, warm yellow-orange lights. They weren’t arranged in any perfect grid or pattern. They were scattered, each one a slightly different brightness from the next, no two right next to each other the same. The effect was almost organic, like looking at embers in a fire or bioluminescent organisms under water.
The whole craft was rotating clockwise, about one full turn every two seconds. But there was something else happening on top of that spin — an “imaginary” line of brighter lights, running from the top center of the disc to the bottom center, like the arm that holds a globe on its axis. That line wasn’t a solid streak; it was just the place where, in that moment, the lights seemed to be the brightest. And it didn’t stay fixed. It slowly rotated around the disc in the same direction as the spin, but more slowly — maybe one full pass every five to six seconds.
Because that bright zone lagged behind the craft’s rotation, the light wave and the spin speed didn’t match. It made it obvious that the entire disc was spinning as a single unit, and that the light effect was being controlled separately — not just a by-product of rotation. This mismatch created a mesmerizing wave of brightness sweeping over the surface.
The darker sections between bright sweeps seemed to merge into the night sky. The camouflage was so effective that parts of the craft almost disappeared when they weren’t lit — like it was cloaking itself. The random flicker and varied brightness across all the lights made it incredibly hard to see a solid outline, even though I could clearly sense its size and shape.
It moved east to west in a steady, straight path. No sound at all — and out here in Hayfork at night, you’d hear even a distant plane. I had it in view for about 15 seconds. First, clear against the open sky. Then, I caught glimpses of it through the trees. Finally, it slipped behind the ridge of the mountain and was gone.
Adrian was with me and saw it too — he even pointed it out at first — but he didn’t pick up all the detail I was able to see. Still, the fact that we both saw it makes me certain of the timing and direction.
I’ve seen plenty of planes, satellites, drones, meteors — this wasn’t any of those. It was too big, too close, too quiet, and far too deliberate in its light behavior. I don’t know what it was, but I’ll never forget the way it looked, how it seemed to glide like it was part of the sky itself, and the eerie, calculated way those lights moved across its surface.