And so it begins… the road that led to possible contact with an alien being. Quagaars? Well, possibly related. But… anyway let’s get to it.
So the below picture comes from just next to the possible place of contact, which I’ll get to right afterwards. These appear to be old signs of some, identical type. Perhaps now they give the directions (or non-directions) to a type of abyss inside or outside time and space.
Right behind the signs is this shallow pit containing numerous empty beer cans. All seem quite old, perhaps from the 60s or 70s even. I’ll try to remember and take some pictures of specific cans soon.
And here we are at The Place itself. It’s just a large pile of old rusty junk — some folding chairs, cabinets perhaps… but what subsequently happens to it in the next 16 hours is the story. See the post Bill Mountain 04 just above.
More alien-type weirdness: Is this the remains of a beer can? A cup? Hard to tell. The physics in this area didn’t seem to be operating normally.
A nearby, rock-topped knoll.
Meadow across the dirt road. This is not a public road of any kind but people do employ it as a sort of unofficial walking and biking trail. I’d say on any given weekend you may have half a dozen visitors to this road.
I should also add here that I’ve taken pictures of this road for the old Baker Blinker Blog, and featured the higher meadow bordering it (about a quarter mile south of the one pictured above) in the post Seven Stones from back in June 2009. And here’s one more old post about the road, from way back in Spring 2008 now, but with only minimal text involved. And that’s all the posts I have for this area. Surprising, since it’s always been one of my favorite walking places in either park. High time, then, my attention shifted to it for blog purposes. But now there’s the, er, Bill Problem to deal with. First Michael Too, now Bill.
With the below photo, we’ve arrived at a second, fascinating place on Bill Mountain, and possibly another contact site, although of a much more subtle nature at least to this point. This is what Hucka D. and I have decided to call Tiny Wiltshire, after the famous English county that Edna and I plan to partially move to when we get a bit more older and grayer, perhaps when I’m about 65. Wiltshire County is one of the most amazing places on Planet Earth for certain, being home to an incredible quantity and quality of crop circles during the spring and summer months of each and every year, no exceptions. I’d estimate that 50 percent of all the world’s crop circles have been found here.
What does this have to do with so-called Tiny Wiltshire in my immediate neighborhood? Well, a considerable number of crop circle enthusiasts feel that the circlemakers, as they are popularly called, are attempting to make a safe and meaningful link between humanity and their own, extraterrestrial or extradimensional culture through patterns in grains. Likewise, Tiny Wiltshire may be a place of contact with Bill, another possible alien entity. My first clue about the latter contact came through this juxtaposition of a plastic bottle and bone underneath one of the many pine trees in the designated location. Almost all of Tiny Wiltshire is enveloped in a bed of brown needles fallen from these trees, and also the area is quite flat in comparison to most of the surrounding terrain. Perhaps this makes the location a natural gathering place for blown-in objects such as the bottle pictured below…
… and also this more crushed bottle not far away. But I wouldn’t bet on it. The bottle below seems unnaturally crushed, for example, as if all the air had been sucked out. More evidence of that Bill Mountain weird-o physics perhaps?
And what of this bottom half of a beer can nearby, seemingly twisted and wretched from its larger top part instead located in a neighboring patch of needles? Does this seem like the actions of a normal forest?
Continue to Bill Mountain 02.
Sunklands 
