I'm walking through the woods, taking the common hiking path in an area so remote that one needs to take a 4-wheel truck to get to this region. Once on foot, the path is barely worn, mostly by game. Not a lot of daylight reaches the thicket beneath the Ponderosas. The remote area is very beautiful and untouched, except for all the things I don't notice as I'm busy taking photos of scenic panoramas and colorful fungi.
I hike right by broken stones atop of a deep ravine where I would have noticed that clearly someone lifted heavy stones and pounded them against others, cracking them, creating a resounding thump that would be heard throughout the creek below. Some very heavy rocks were hoisted from deep in the earth where they had been embedded like headstones and thrown against others.
I walk past interesting and obviously arranged twig structures, assuming that everything around me is as nature left it.
I'm busy listening for the stream and walk right by some not so coincidental "X's"
and the arches ....
And, as I go further into the woods, I stalk right past twigs in very purposeful positions -
My pant leg brushes against a tree stump and I look down to see a rock atop of it. I've seen several of these in the woods. I don't consider how or why this is possible in the middle of nowhere.
I stop and turn around, surveying the area, but my eyes are leveled at the height of a human or an animal. I'm not studying the ground or the tops of the trees. I just feel strangely watched. Perhaps a bear? A wild cat?
I brush off the sensation when I don't see anything in the massive thicket. I look up at the clouds and sigh. The air is clear and clean and the day is glorious. I am just happy to be outside and not behind my desk. So, I plunge down the path again.
Birds call. More birds call back. A creature makes a snort. Another one replies. The woods appear to me, the daytime trekker, a normal biosphere doing its thing. A blackbird calls three times, followed by three more calls in another area of the woods that have a slightly odd sound. I don't linger on the strange tone, but instead stop and look at the pretty mushrooms at my feet and take a picture.
Then, I feel a nagging sensation, a bit sweaty, a little nauseous. Suddenly, the pretty day of hiking seems like it's not so pleasant. I'm uneasy. I head back up the path towards where I parked, feeling both watched, and rather queasy. I'm starting to feel a bit depressed. No, perhaps, hopeless. With a sense of urgency, I push at a faster pace. This is not how the day was supposed to turn out. I wanted to go further down that interesting path.
I start to take the shortcut to my car, but stop. For some reason, I feel that's a bad choice. I choose the path to the left and take the longer way. It makes no sense, since I don't feel so good and my day seems utterly ruined, but I follow my gut instinct.
And I leave the woods.
Did I miss the signs all around me? Was I guided to leave? To take a certain path?
These are only some of the unusual characteristics reported in Bigfoot - Land.
How much choice do we have in the woods and how cognizant are we?