Posted: 24 Jan 2022 11:21 AM PST
During a strangely quiet night in the Pacific Northwest wilderness, a couple hears a growling sound in the distance. Then, suddenly, a brightly lit UFO appears over the lake, hovering, then vanishes.
The following account was recently forwarded to me:
“My family owns a rustic cabin on a mostly undeveloped lakefront acreage in the U.S. Pacific Northwest. When I say rustic, I mean no electricity, running water, toilet, cell service, etc. It’s about a 40-minute drive along a dirt road until you’d find civilization. The cabin is tiny and right next to the lake. We have a fire pit and a gazebo structure in a clearing at the end of a long driveway. The entire property and surrounding area is wilderness with a handful of other similar cabins in the vicinity. We’ve owned the place for more than 20 years, and it’s a good place. Like good vibes, a happy place that feels safe and fun. My boyfriend and I like to go up on the weekends in the summer and swim, kayak, drink, whatever. On a typical summer weekend there are lots of boats out on the lake and you can hear action at the neighboring – chain saws, music, ATVs.
On this particular visit, we stayed for the Sunday night and it sounded like most, if not all, of the neighbors cleared out by evening, going back to work the next day. We were in the gazebo and it must’ve been around 11pm because it was dark. We’re in the Pacific Northwest and it stays light out in the summer until well after 10 pm, but it was full dark.
My boyfriend was playing some game on his phone, and I was reading by the light from my headlamp. We’d had music playing on a portable speaker, but the battery had died and we were content to sit in silence. It was a warm, muggy evening. We were pleasantly tired from a great day on the lake and felt relaxed, and we were sitting out in shorts and t-shirts. There wasn’t a whisper of breeze. And it was really, really quiet.
At some point I looked up from my book, slightly unnerved. It was overwhelmingly quiet, almost stifling. No leaves rustling in the wind, no bugs buzzing, no frogs chirping. I felt uneasy, like something wasn’t quite right. I kept getting distracted from the story I was reading, and my ears were straining, listening for something. I’m pretty sure I remarked on the silence to my boyfriend, who agreed it was especially still. It felt like nature was holding its breath, waiting for something.
After a few minutes, I began to hear something in the distance. It was back in the woods, fairly far away. I honestly have no idea what it was. I thought maybe it was a bird with a low, raspy call. Like a crow with a sore throat. But there was also a deepness to it, that I found myself imagining a huge moose or a bear or God knows what. This rasping, growling noise began to repeat at fairly regular intervals, always the same pitch. My boyfriend looked up, he heard it too, so I wasn’t losing my mind. “What the heck is that?” I asked, feeling increasingly creeped out.
The thing is, it was really far away and it didn’t seem to be getting any closer. At this point, I gave up on the book and my boyfriend clicked off his phone, and we sat in silence, just listening. We could hear the low rasping noise, and nothing else at all. The air felt dense, almost suffocating. There was no moon and it was almost pitch black without the head lamp and light from the phone, and the prickling on my neck had escalated into a full-on chill, despite the muggy weather. I felt like something was watching me from the darkness of the trees, and my eyes scanned the dark fruitlessly.
This feeling of anxiety kept intensifying, and I knew without seeing his face that my boyfriend felt the same way, because his breathing had quickened. The low rasping growl continued. “Let’s go inside,” I whispered, and we stood up to run to the cabin when ‘FLASH!’ Directly in front of us, over the lake, what I can only describe as a bar of light lit up so brightly we stopped dead. We both uttered, at the same time, “What?!” This vertical bar of light hovered for a moment, suspended out over the lake, and then disappeared, leaving the image burned onto our retinas. We were both exclaiming, “Did you see that?” And talking over each other and we’d seen exactly the same thing at the same time and had no idea how to explain what it was.
A moment later I realized the suffocating feeling was gone, the silence had eased, and the night and woods just felt “normal” again. The growling rasping animal sound in the distance had stopped and did not return.
We went to bed after that, and have talked about it since and have no rational explanation for what that was. We jokingly refer to this as our “UFO encounter,” but don’t bring it up with friends anymore because nobody believes us.
I’ve been up to the cabin many times since this and have never felt that fear, that sense of being watched, that creeping dread. And I’ve never heard that sound again.” MS
Phantoms & Monsters