I have had 'experiences' as long as I can remember... probably four or so. The thing is, I was in my early 30's before I thought anything of it. I never thought of them as experience's. I considered it normal. Of course, other people didn't feel like that. Other people thought I was weird I suppose, adults and children alike. Once I moved here to the Woods, 'experiences' began to take on a whole other level, and I spent the next 30 years getting to know 'myself' and connecting dots. Still doing that at 65.
I didn't come here to post a bunch of stuff tonight. I find it prudent to let people get to know me slowly.
But, I did have one story I thought you might enjoy.
Before I made a commitment to up root my life and my children's and move here, I made several trips up to visit a friend who lived here in another part of the deep woods. Hill people you know, they have a different way of seeing things and living life. On my visits there were always people showing up out of nowhere, literally.. Interesting characters, very different and very kicked back. Now, you have to understand that I am talking the backwoods. While this area has grown quite populated (unfortunately), back then this particular cabin set in the middle of isolation in the middle of nowhere. Miles off a paved road.
Anyway, by evening there were always people and instruments and home made grills being fired up and children playing everywhere. The fiddles and banjos and tambourines and wash boards and even spoons would start strumming up. Beer's would be popped (and an occasional jug), food would be cooked and music would play until dark thirty or so. Then, as suddenly as everyone appeared they would be gone.
So, this particular evening when everyone was gone and it was just me, my friend, and a couple of who had decided to stay the night. We were sitting on the back porch (which was as big as the inside) just talking and chilling. A bit earlier my friend had pulled out a bottle of rum and asked if I wanted a rum and coke for a change. I said sure, sounds good. Now I was sitting on the step's looking out to the east... over a huge pasture, on the other side of which the river flowed, with a rum and coke in my hand. Perfect huh?
Everyone but me had gone inside. But, I was enjoying myself and the quiet so I remained. There was a big old window that looked out onto the porch. The light from inside was very dim but not completely dark. I was on my second and last rum and coke. Just checking out the view. Between the 'yard' and the pasture was a fence. I was told before that the man that owned the pasture grazed cattle there occasionally and even if I didn't see them, to be aware, cause he had an ornery old bull that felt that particular spot was his own. So I'm sitting and gazing and doing nothing and suddenly a movement from the north side of the pasture caught my eye. The north side and south side of the pasture were both against the wood's and a distance away so the movement was just a movement. A flicker. So, I continued to keep my attention on the area out of curiosity. After a few minutes, more movement, then bigger movement etc. Something was definitely entering the field from the south.
I remember thinking, there come's that old bull I am always hearing about. At that distance it was just a thing, an object, a blob. But sure enough it was coming my way. Cool. Bull. You know? So I watch this old bull crossing into the pasture and about equal distance from the porch and the river. Staying the course. Taking his time. Eventually he got close enough that his shape became clear, and yep, it was that old bull... no doubt. A few more yards and that old bull looked straight at me, and Stood UP. Hand to heart he did. On two legs. And proceeded to cross the pasture, pretty as you please. Now, this was a big bull. Not man sized at all in other words. Big. So, I am sure that my jaw was dropped all the way to my chest and I know for sure that I was stunned. Truly stunned. What? What? At the north end he looked back once and disappeared into the woods.
I looked back at the window, because that's what you do... look around to see if anyone else is seeing this. And standing in the window was a elderly woman. Obviously Native American. Wearing buckskin and braids. Looking back at me. Scared the bejeez's out of me. I was already on high alert and this put me over the edge on 'be scared or not be scared'. I just remember looking down at the drink in my hand, setting it gently down on the step, and walking around the cabin and inside. I find it quite funny now, not so much then. The next morning I kind of tried to steer the conversation in some way towards the experience without blurting it out and assigning myself to the 'crazy' shake of the head. But, no deal.
It was years later that my friend and I were sitting on that same back porch and I told him about all this. He said, "Oh Yeah, that's Sasquatch. He lives around here somewhere. Been here for as long as any one can remember." Like this was a everyday, normal, fact of it. And the old woman? His great-great grandmother. She hangs out too. "She probably knew she would scare you. She thinks that's hilarious to scare someone that doesn't know about her." He said she probably got a double amount of pleasure because she'd been watching me watch Sasquatch and new the shock would be upped by several magnitudes.
So, that's this story. I like to tell it, under the right circumstances, to show the lighter side of what can be a pretty scary otherworld.
