I had an extremely unusual experience the night of Japan’s earthquake which involved a large, swooping-in-on-me bird-like figure, beeping sounds from deep within my head getting louder and louder, and a synchronicity the next day concerning tsunamai’s and Thunderbirds.

As I posted on both The Orange Orb and Animal Forteana, this is what happened:

I had a very strange experience last night. I spent much of the night sleeping little; listening mainly to Coast to Coast and the news coming in on the earthquake in Japan, and soon after, the tsunami warnings. Earliest reports were warnings for Hawaii and the Washington and Oregon coasts; later, California and Alaska.

I was compelled to listen through the night because of the sheer tragedy and immensity of another overwhelming earth disaster, and also, because we had planned to drive to the coast that day (approximately fifty miles from our home) and spend the weekend there. I was also concerned about my mother and friends on the Oregon coast, as well as family living up and down the Pacific coast. I tried to sleep, managed to doze off for a while but kept waking up, turning the little transistor on again. Throughout Coast to Coast local tsunami warnings came through, announcing beach and school closures for the Oregon coast.

At one point, a deep beeping sound woke me up. This beeping was deep within me; not from an external source, not an acoustic anomaly. It was inside of me. It became louder, and with it, I saw a large dark bird come flying towards me. All I could see was the shape, no details. Slowly flapping its huge wings as it came towards me, as the beeping got louder and louder. A glowing whitish-blue light or “halo” surrounded this bird. This bird vision was indie my head, not external, but it was definitely connected to the beeping sound. At first I thought the bird was an owl; and it might had been, but it seemed to be something else as well. What, I’m not sure. I had conflicting responses to this bird; one, that all this was pretty damn interesting but as the owl, or bird-creature, came closer, along with the light, I became a little scared and tried to shut it out. It sort of exploded when I did that, and I had the feeling this bird-like creature was both frustrated with me and disappointed that I chose to ignore it.

Then, I heard, again from that same, deep-within place inside me, the sounds of voices talking on the radio. So I told myself it was the radio; I still had it on, the ear buds in my ears. But the radio and ear -buds were both on the night table, and the radio was off.

I cannot describe how this was not a dream. It was not a dream that I awoke from, it was not a hypnogognic dream, it was not a dream then I awake to find I’m really still dreaming, … none of that. None of that. I was completely awake. The radio talk within continued; I tried very hard to listen to make sense out of it but the voices were indistinct.

Thunderbird Synchronicity
After I wrote this, I visited The Anomalist to find this link to a post from Loren Coleman at Cryptomundo: Tsunamis and Thunderbirds, which explores the stories of Native Americans in the Pacific Northwest and earthquakes:

It is amazing what Thunderbird folklore may tell us about past tsunamis, says Ruth Ludwin, a University of Washington scientist. Her research has found that Thunderbird and other cryptid stories and traditions “could relate to a large Seattle fault earthquake around A.D. 900 and specific eyewitness accounts linked to a mammoth 1700 earthquake and tsunami in the Cascadia subduction zone.”

“Along the way, I picked up a lot of stories about landslides,” she said. But she couldn’t find anything that seemed to match the 1700 event, until she took a closer look at the story of Thunderbird and Whale.

“It’s a story of the underworld versus the over-world,” Ludwin said.

The Whale was a monster, killing other whales and depriving the people of meat and oil. The Thunderbird, a benevolent supernatural being, saw from its home high in the mountains that the people were starving. The great bird soared out over the coastal waters, then plunged into the ocean and seized the Whale.

A struggle ensued first in the water, the tribal tale says. “The waters receded and rose again. Many canoes came down in trees and were destroyed and numerous lives were lost.”

The Thunderbird eventually succeeds in lifting the evil Whale out of the ocean, carrying it “high into the air (and then) dropping it to the land surface at Beaver prairie. Then at this place there was another great battle.”

On the Coast
After phone calls back and forth and following news reports we decided to drive to the coast, which turned out to be a beautiful drive. The tsunami warnings for this area have been lifted. As I’m typing this I’m looking out at the shore, listening to the ocean.

I described the bird like visitor as possibly an owl, because that was the closet thing I could think of at the time. But it this “bird” or more appropriately, winged creature, had an intelligence about it, an awareness, that transcended mundane animals. (Including us humans.) It was a messenger from another realm, it was spirit.

Listen to the interview here.

Colvin contributes to the L.O.W.F.I. site; you can find him on the Washington L.O.W.F.I. section here. And shameless plug, you can find me on the Oregon L.O.W.F.I. section here.

On November 15, 1966, the World was introduced to the phenomenon that would become known as Mothman. After the first sighting reported by the press 44 years ago in the papers of the day, soon a copyeditor in Ohio, a fan of the “Batman” series then on television, would coin the word “Mothman” because it fit in the headlines better. The sightings of a “Big Bird” had become a “big insect” with one copyeditor’s action.

For the rest, visit Cryptomundo .

I’ve been feeling the urge to paint Mothman images — do a whole series of small paintings with UFOs and entities as the theme — and this is my first Mothman attempt. Just scribbling, really. This is a pen and pencil sketch I did, then manipulated it with the Photobooth tools. The original drawing has more color (didn’t have the tools I wanted, and too lazy to walk out to the studio in the back to get them) and I’ve cropped the image a bit.

Approximately two months ago, I awoke in the middle of the night, roughly within the magical 3am hour (That in itself is worthy of more study, as it always seems to be at that particular hour. But I won’t veer off course here). What I began to hear, was in fact, as best I can describe, the sound of a LARGE ‘mechanical and metallic’ bird(?) outside of my window. I was stunned by this sound, but not afraid. I didn’t even feel the urge to look, to be honest. I just paid attention to the sound itself. It was fascinating. For the better part of ten minutes, it would ‘squawk’ several times, take a break for about 30 seconds, then resume the vocalization. I heard it that one night, and never again. If I were to match the scope and size of this ‘bird’ with the size of the sound, this thing would’ve been 8ft. tall. Better I not look after all.

He goes on to write about synchronicity; contacts with others experiencing similar things, and some of what he’s discovered via research, past experiences, and the movie The Fourth Kind.

What struck me as interesting was the immediate “mothy” vibe I got from reading this account. Even though there is no mention of Mothman or indication of any Mothman phenomena, I couldn’t help but be reminded of Mothman. There is the bird like imagery of this encounter of course, but I thought of the electronic voices Keel described in The Mothman Prophecies.

Ed Walters, author of The Gulf Breeze Sightings, described hearing weird electronic or metallic voices outside his bedroom windows at night in connection with his UFO experiences.

I was also reminded of Greg Taylor’s article Her Sweet Murmur, in DarkLore volume 1, which explores the rushing, roaring, bell clanging/chiming sounds many (including myself) experience during esoteric events. These episodes appear diverse and often unconnected from each other; UFOs, BVM (Blessed Virgin Mary) appearances, Mothman, Bigfoot or other crypto sightings, aliens, OOBEs, etc. but, Taylor asks, is there a common source from where these entities emerge? These strange sounds of clicking, clacking, singing, bells and the like are shared by fringe phenomena; possibly pointing to the idea they are related. UFOs, aliens, abductions, contactees, Bigfoot weirdness, BVM sightings, MIBS, fairies, maybe they are kaleidoscopic manifestations of the same thing.

As far as Mothman goes, Mothman wasn’t, or isn’t, an isolated and specific event. There’s a whole high strangeness context enveloping Mothman: UFOs, MIBS, telepathic messages, OOBEs, electronic voices, premonitions, heavy dreams laden with messages and communications, curses and legends, synchronicities and a thread of violence that trails Mothman. This is not to say Mothman itself is violent, or responsible for the aura of violence connected with the phenomena, but a response to it.

Mothman wasn’t on my mind, just UFOs, but I had the following dream last night:

I’m on my way to Point Pleasant — road trip! A Mothman road trip. A couple of friends are with me. I have an idea to film all this, do a documentary, even though I don’t want to. I keep saying that there are so many documentaries on Mothman what could I possibly contribute, or uncover, that would be new for anyone? Same old same old. There is also the fact I don’t know a thing about making movies or documentaries. (And yet later, when it comes to editing, a tedious process I do not want to do, I can’t trust anyone else, even with years of editing experience, to touch the film. What if they miss something, lose something, or misnterpret my discovery? I’ll do it myself, even though it’s going to be a huge pain.)

We start off in the west; vast, beautiful landscape. Violets and blues and pinks and huge canyons and deserts, just absolutely amazing. Uninhabited by humans. A bit scary too; and suddenly, to my surprise, I realize Mothman is here as well. He, it, has been here. A giangantic shadow appears overhead, gliding silently across the sky. It’s the shadow of a Mothman/Thunderbird, but not the thing itself. I’m surprised we’d find Mothman out here right away, so far from Point Pleasant.

We keep going. Find petroglyphs in the Southwest that are definitely Mothman. Many Naitves are upset with me, accusing me of being a “twinkie” and appropriating and exploiting culture, others don’t and are helpful. We move on.

Make it to Point Pleasant. Turns out it’s the day after the Mothman Festival. Streets are littered with confetti, flyers, etc. I’m a little shocked, and disturbed, at the poverty of the place. A veneer has been set in place but it’ s flimsy; you can see right through things. There is sadness, confusion, loss, and a sense of being lost . . . I really want to leave.

We find a family who own an “antique” shop, more of a vintage, sort of, catch all thrift store. They remember Mothman well and to my surprise, are willing to talk to me. I would have thought everyone in the town would be talked out but they want people to understand, to know, and so they don’t mind me being there. And yet there is such an overall sense of desperation. Not from Mothman, but because of Mothman: because of how the world has responded to them, their town, their story.