We saw round 3 lights moving through the sky above our area two of which performed movements an airplane could not.

About 9:30-9:40 pm, as I was looking south at the rising full moon in a clear night sky from my back porch, I saw a bright white light cross the sky, coming toward me from south to north; it passed over my home and continued north to slightly north-east. It was moving fast, steady, level, bright and silent, and was not as high as airplanes usually are. It was of the brightness of a car headlight, but not as large. I called my husband to come, but it was gone before he could see it. We went into the street to look for it. As we were, we both saw two more lights appear just under the star Arcturus, which was fairly high in the sky to the south-west. The first light was heading east and a second was following behind it from a short distance. Again, both lights were round, bright, steady without flashing, moving fast and silent. They were more like the surrounding stars in brightness, and further away and less bright than the first light that passed over our house, and they were travelling faster than the airplanes that I commonly see overhead. We are in the flightpath of airplanes from the Rapid City Regional Airport, and planes are common sights and sounds. We are also two blocks from our city's hospital and under the Life Flight helicopter's path. These were not airplanes or helicopters. The second light was appearing to catch up to the first when it suddenly took a fast 90 degree turn to the south. The turn was smooth and tight and the light did not slow down. As it was turning, the first light came to a stop and hung there for almost half a minute. It looked remarkably like one of the background stars as it did. Had it not been moving, I would have taken it for a star. The night, at that time, was crystal clear.
We soon lost the light that turned south into the distance, and the first light resumed its eastward course. We were able to keep eyes on it for almost half a minute before we lost it in the glare of the full moon. However, as it resumed its course, it seemed to slow and speed up a couple of times, as well as to swerve once, as though something were in its way. We saw nothing, but there was a definite change and then correction to its course.  We went inside and my husband checked the flight path of the ISS. It was reported as being in Florida at this time.
I have seen these same kind of lights several times in this same part of the sky over the last few years, but this is the first time that someone has been with me as a witness. I am a night person and I love the night sky. I look at it often and am interested in the stars. I am not a UFO person, but a curious person as to what it is that I so often see. My husband mostly humors me, he would rather be inside watching tv, but last night he was disturbed by the two lights that he saw.
These lights have always been the same round, white, bright lights that don't change shape or size, that move quickly without sound and that don't flash. They resemble stars and when they are not moving, they are difficult to notice. During the last full lunar eclipse visible in my area, which I observed in it's entirety from my driveway, I also observed two of these lights. They were stationary on the southern horizon, and I was puzzling because I didn't recognize what stars they were, when they both began to accelerate straight up into the night sky. I watched them for a full minute as they crossed paths and disappeared. It is my opinion that they can remain unnoticed when they are stationary, and once they move, they are visible for such a short time that there is nothing to do but watch and be amazed. I personally look up, I keep an eye to the sky because I love the ever changing aspect of the sky both day and night. I always have, and so I see things most people don't simply because they don't pay attention. I think there is more to see that we are aware simply because we don't look. I am also an artist, and I look to everything with an artist's eye and because I want to see.
Because I look, almost 20 years ago, I had an opportunity to observe a round, front-lighted, metallic object about the size of a basketball cross low over the roof of my neighbor's house and continue west until I lost it. It could not have been more than 20-30 feet from me. It too moved steadily, on a level course, silent and unflashing. I don't talk to people about it because I am tired of being made fun of, but I think it was significant. It was not a drone. It had no visible propulsion or wings or tail. No intake or exhaust. It left no wake or trail. It was dead silent. I don't know what it was or why it would have been in a small neighborhood in Rapid City, South Dakota, but it was. I would talk about it to someone who didn't make fun of me, though I don't know what that would prove. It came and it went, there was no time to grab a camera, no time to draw attention to it, it passed with a sense of purpose and was gone. It did have to navigate it's way around several trees as I watched. I have no idea what such a thing could be. But had I not paused for a moment to look up, I would never have known it was there.
Our backgrounds. My husband is an honorably retired member of the USAF. He's not particularly imaginative and couldn't care less about things like UFOs. I am college educated, had my own graphic design studio, am an active artist of realism, not a sci fi fan, am interested in almost everything, and I am a Jehovah's Witness. My faith places a very high priority on honesty and most in it are very conservative. Few would even consider the possibility of such a thing as an UFO. For myself, I am simply a curious person interested in the beauty and complexity of this world who keeps her eyes constantly open. If anyone believes me enough to want to talk to me, that's fine. What we saw was not ground shaking, but real. The straight-traveling lights could be passed off as anything, but few things can stop and hang in the sky, or execute such a perfect 90 degree turn as they did last night. I do think, given the odds of seeing what we have seen, that there must be a lot more up there than we notice.