We did something  the other night I’ll never do again. We took a family member with us.  Now this statement isn’t because of any problems on the trip. There were no clashes of personality, no disagreements over the duration of the trip.  Our partner that night even has their own carry and conceal license.  Mom was a great addition to the evening.

Movement along the fence , i was uncertain of what i was shooting at if anything.

She and Lori drove.  I walked ahead of the car some to get a better vantage point of the woods to each side, to cover the bridges more completely.  In fact I spent a large portion of the time, 20 to 50 yards in the lead, the car on low beams. My mother has been interested in our work from the start and I’ve tried to keep her up to date as to finds and she wanted to go along with us on a trip for over a year.

I thought about it and we picked what we felt a fairly safe route, because knowing what was possible we wanted to keep her as far  from shock or harm as possible.  We still live under the illusion that there are places that are safe.  We ended the evening as most, unsure yet of our finds, curious over the movements we’d tried to track around us and  hungry for those moments before the screen where the land opens up to us, far  clearer than night vision gear could ever offer us.   But what we found in that nights efforts scared me, not for me but for my Mom,  just how close she was to real danger.   I don’t care if she can shoot a happy face on a target with her nine, there are realities I should never have chanced.

The finds of that night were numerous, as were the ones in a night a short time later.  I had heard movement in a few places but had not been able to adjust my eyes to a degree that I could make out the sources of these noises.  I’ve heard so many, I automatically think Raccoon, Possum, Skunk,  or even snake moving from branch to the weeds.  But the one thing that has not changed about these trips is my place in them, a blind man catching only glimpses within the split second of the flash.     the shadow of the pole on its head, it peers around the side face just above the weeds,

The whole premise of alien beings should be as natural to us as the caution we’d use in certain parts of the city,  But no matter how much you find or hear and see, its hard to connect those proofs with natural world.   It’s impossible to ever see  another and say to yourself okay, next time I’ll not be so wrapped in the conflicts of reason.  I’ll  just accept.  When you’ve spent 40 years of your life being told one thing, until it becomes unconsciously part of you, you can’t flip the switch over night.

Most distressing, though, is the thought that it doesn’t matter how many of these beings we find, no amount of risk on our part will ever be enough to bring others along.  All that can be done is to continue. Not every book written is read,   and what remains humorous to some will not take on a serious tone, even if we were to disappear.

We live under no illusions.  Our disappearance would be written off as a stunt.  Some would say we were sharing peanut butter and banana sandwich with Elvis in a trailer park, having a great laugh at all this between beers, or people would merely come up with the comfortable solution that fit their understanding of logic or pacified their fears.original cropped for detail

Do we have reptilian or some other form of bestial beings, not just flying by overhead, but living in the ample woodlands around us, capitalizing on the cave systems Missouri is famous for?  Yes, it appears we do.  Even though I made similar statements of acceptance after Bubba, and after Clem, the rational part of my mind will rear its ugly head again, andI’ll wonder at just what we’ve found in uncertainty, until the next one and the next one and the next.   I can tell you this, we’ve been on a roll that any gambler would give his right arm for,  a string of wins,wins being you get images of them, and they don’t get you.  There is a reason that  this has been the case and it isn’t because of our sterling security, and it isn’t because of our skill in the field.  We’re being allowed to do what we do, like vacationers driving through a zoo where the de-clawed animals are too old to care.   I really believe that there is a holding pattern in effect , a truce, possibly, where some races are just observing,  just as we are.

I hope when the day comes, when it’s finally no holds barred,  that we have satisfied ourselves by then and are safely at home, that we aren’t out on some godforsaken shadow of what once was a road, when there are no more leashes, and all the doors open.

Richard Carter