Hello Raven,
The essence of this email I sent to David Paulides, of the well known YouTube channel Missing411. I'm submitting it to you in hopes your readership will have answers or ideas about the weirdest of these two encounters.
You may hear Dave read this email by going to his site, CanAm Missing on YouTube, and looking for his April 6, 2022 episode. He reads many other fantastic letters, and combines these with his Missing 411 case studies.
I'll relate two potentially related encounters I hoped originally to be sharing with Steve Isdahl. These happened after a number of encounters, the result of which I was dragged from being a non-believer, to a knower. As a result, many experiences from my early life have found resolution, puzzle pieces solved by the sudden onset of Sabe awareness.
A quick background, for your listeners: I’m in my late sixties, an artist retired from filmmaking, where I worked primarily in New York and Europe as a producer and editor. I’m a strong visual thinker, and have a good sense of what I see in nature. I fish whenever I get the chance. I do at times hunt, but only for the freezer, and New York State makes that activity so expensive for Connecticut natives, that I’ve all but given it up. I’m also an inventor, grounded in natural sciences and mathematics. My partner and I were recently awarded a US patent for a medical device to treat glaucoma.
I've struggled to accept these events. Facing these experiences took years, recording them, many months. Not a soul I’ve told any of this to, has believed a single word. These testimonials are my bulwark against memory loss, and disbelief. One day mankind will establish the truth of these beings, and my tiny experiences will take a place amongst the many thousands of similar encounters.
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"On the afternoon of July 3rd, 2018 I hiked overnight to a small cabin on a lake some three miles distant from our home in the Adirondacks. I was walking the same trail that my father had been pursued along, some twenty years before, while hiking home. The terrain is gradual and sloping, and parallels a stream that feeds the lake I was walking towards. The forest along this route has been heavily lumbered leaving a mix of third growth hardwood mostly.
I made the hike in the late afternoon, and about three-quarters of the way to my destination, I saw a bizarre multi-legged creature crossing the trail in front of me at a distance of about twenty yards. It was crawling in a crablike fashion, and seemed intent on the scent of something else. It went off rapidly to my right and disappeared in the woods. I only saw it when it crossed the trail, and lost sight of it probably three seconds later.
It appeared four-legged, but it is possible there were other appendages, closer to the head, either legs, or jaws. I say this because some protuberances at the head-end seemed to be moving, yet were held up off the ground.
It had a see-through quality to it, as if it were composed of layers of some unearthly anatomy. It had a whitish coloration, and seemed shrouded in diaphanous fabric, as if its body parts were protected by a semi-transparent gauze. It climbed over a few fallen logs, moving with a centipede or crab-like locomotion. Even though the musculature of the rear legs seemed in some ways to be dog-like, in fairness to dogs, the bends in this creatures joints were in the wrong direction.
I know that’s a lot of conflicting description, but when faced with three seconds of total weirdness, one’s brain goes into hyperdrive trying to find explanations.
Backwards facing rear legs, knees bent in the wrong direction, a long body, maybe four feet length total, no tail, short legs.
Was any part of it solid? I wonder to this day. The electronic body seemed almost robotic. A RoboDog is a lot taller. It was a full four feet long from back of its rear legs to its nose, but only twelve or fourteen inches tall at the most. Overall, it had the proportions of a dachshund, but with a longer neck.
It made a clicking or sniffing noise, and did not move like a mammal, rather it scuttled or crawled. To this day I have no idea what it was, but I surely was glad it continued on. I don’t think it noticed me at all.
The sniffing or crackling noise could have been due to internal hydraulics, or even electric sparks. One could also say the repetitive portion of the sound was a sort of hissing, breathing, or electric arcing.
Was it electro-mechanical, or was it insectoid? Very hard to tell because it was moving so fast. These are impressions that will stay with me to this day.
Months later, I considered if this could have been what some people call a ‘crawler’. Reports of such beings have occurred in North America. The thing seemed robotic, and under intelligent control, yet at the same time gave an aura of something like a enormous cicada. The area around it’s body seemed clouded by some change to the air itself. Since listening to your video of April 6, 2022, I’ve appreciated the reference to a mantid, or grasshopper.
For some reason this experience didn’t ruin my trip at all. In fact I blissfully forgot about it until days later. Take note of that please.
I arrived at the cabin a half hour later, made a fire outside in the pit, cooked some dinner, then waited for the sun to set.
I was relaxed as I meditated, and drank tea at the edge of the lake until wee hours of the night. It was July 4th weekend - I could hear very distant fireworks. All of a sudden I got the feeling I wasn’t safe. It felt like a cold chill enveloped me, with mist gathering at my small corner of the lake, and in the sky above. I went in to the cabin, and locked the door.
During the night I awoke, intensely disoriented. Even though I’ve spent nights in this cabin a half-dozen or so times before, I had trouble first locating my flashlight which I had brought with me, and even the latch on the front door of the cabin. How was that possible? This was a place I knew intimately. Yet even an intense survey of the cabin interior with my hands located neither the latch, nor my light, nor the matches which I had used to start my fire outside. It was as if I had plunged deep into a fog of war. I peed in a cooking pot, gave up wanting to go outside, then went back to bed.
In the late morning I awoke. Brilliant sunshine, blue sky. My flashlight was lying on the floor, unbroken, as if I had hit it during the night. These events still troubled me because I never remembered losing it. After some camp coffee, I doused the fire (outside not in), then had a swim. As soon as I dressed, a huge rock, landed loudly in the water near the camp.
‘Kersplash!’.
I stopped, frozen. Then hordes of other projectiles, light in weight and and non-destructive, hit the side of the building just feet from where I had enjoyed my breakfast. The pebbles hurled would have hurt had they hit me, so my first reaction was anger. Big Guy wanted me gone. The stones seemed to be saying, “Ok you’ve had your fun, now you need to get out of here!”
By this time I had encountered Sabe in so many different ways that I knew perfectly well who was behind these well aimed projectiles. Yet never before had I been driven out of an area of the forest. I considered the “go-home" request important, so I spoke out-loud:
“Okay, okay. I’m leaving, I’m leaving. Just let me pack.” The missiles stopped.
I packed my kit quickly, locked the camp, hid the key and headed out. On the first turn of the trail I passed a huge trunk of a fallen red spruce that was sprouting a number of really big reishi mushrooms. I grabbed them, and held them by their stipes in my left, hand, the same hand that was cradling one strap of my pack. It was hot, and this way of carrying everything allowed my right arm to swing free, and kept the hot nylon fabric off my back.
For my entire walk home, I mean the whole walk, all three miles, I was pursued by this invisible being. Although I had been followed on multiple previous occasions, in vehicles, along trails, this time the encounter was particularly close. I mean the footsteps were right behind me. I was nervous, but not afraid. The Sabe, and I assumed it to be Sabe, made audible footsteps, matching mine in cadence, just a few feet behind me, Yet whenever I turned to look I saw nothing. Then I felt pine cones begin hitting my back. I began to realize this was a game to my adversary. He didn’t mean any harm. It seemed he wanted to play, or talk.
A half mile or so into the walk, a pine cone landed on the trail in front of me I reached down and used my right arm like a lacrosse stick to propel it back into the woods, I kept my eyes on where it landed.
Almost instantly, the same pine cone came rocketing back! I was playing pine cone tennis with an adversary I couldn’t see! I said things, like “Bet you can’t get that!” And, “Good shot!"
This went on for the entire rest of the three mile hike back! The pine cone would be returned every time. I’d bend over, use my spare right hand to scoop up the pine cone and hurl it somewhere else. Then a split second later it came hurtling back and always landed just in front of me.
This was exhausting. I was running out of breath. I did not want under any circumstances to lose the two Reishi mushrooms I was carrying in my left hand. For some reason they felt like my protection. So I only had my right hand to play pine-cone tennis. The act of walking and bending to make these shots really tired me out. Yet I felt that this game somehow kept the encounter real, and ultimately, safe.
Then, as I approached the place where the trail opens up into the cleared area of our family settlement, I naturally relaxed my gait and caught a whiff of that smell described by so many - a mixture of wet dog and skunk. Catching the scent made the experience real, confirmed it, like a moment of verification. The game of pine-cone tennis was over."
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Dave, when I consider these two experiences back to back, I wonder if they were in some way related. A number of questions have arisen:
Do our Northern forests house potentially more than one paranormal threat to hikers such as myself? A potential threat to Sabe? Could the dog-like cicada-like thing have been following the scent of a Sabe, who in turn was following me ?
Could the bizarre entity have an electromagnetic function to either self-shield, or cause an EMF disturbance such that an one pole of an artificial portal could be created as a weapon?
Could my Sabe friend have run me out precisely because such an entity was out and about?
Could my forgetting about the afternoon insect-like being, have been a guardian Sabe calming my mind? And could the same force have essentially used thought implantation to keep me safely locked inside, away from matches, away from my flashlight, and unable to find the latch.
Was my sixth sense of being in danger on the shores of a deserted lake, the result of my Sabe bodyguard going off duty? I really mean that. I mean, they aren’t called ’Watchers’ for nothing.
Whatever that thing, was, I’m now convinced the Big Man had my six, for my entire trip. I still feel that in my bones.
I wonder if many of the ‘angry encounters’ campers in Canada and the US experience with Sabe, are terrifying, but in the end harmless, because these beings are trying to frighten city dwellers out of areas where there is something far more dangerous.
I don’t have answers to these questions, and would love to hear responses from your community. I thank you for reading your incoming letters. Their correspondence has taught me the value of the collective mind.
I also thank-you for your superior work on the problem of the worldwide Missing. Your community runs with the positive help of Ben’s spirit. I actually feel Ben, whenever I watch your videos, because whenever I think of your work I find myself in psychic dialogue with two people, not one. I have a son exactly his age, and cannot imagine how you put yourself back together the way you have, since that tragedy. I’m convinced Ben is there, helping and watching over you, aiding and abetting all your work, just as I believe the Big Guy did for me.
In the future I’ll be able to supply some puzzle pieces about portals. I’m seeking definitive answers myself, but the Big Guy has already given me some clues.
Best regards,
Postmark Winter Owl
