This was an interesting post from Reddit. You know I’ve never been fond of the yelling and knocking technique, my technique has always been to enter the woods passively.
But what about throat singing to communicate. It’s less aggressive and more mesmerizing I would think.
By the early 21st century, throat-singing was once again used to lull babies to sleep, lure wild and semidomesticated animals, help gain the favour of the spirit of the place, and summon shamanic spirits and Buddhist gods.. . -Brittanica
If throat singing can lure semi domesticated animals in, what about a bigfoot. Would this be more passive and pleasing to them?
“The primatologists at the University of St. Andrews discovered that wild gibbons in Thailand have developed a unique song as a natural defense to predators. Literally singing for survival, the gibbons appear to use the song not just to warn their own group members, but those in neighbouring areas.”—Science Daily
How long does it take you, when you enter the woods, till you feel like you’re a part of it? Till your senses have synced to what’s all around you and you notice everything? The sound of the birds singing, the click of an opossum call, the wind moving every leaf around you and branches snapping all around…”
We think, “god I need to go to the woods and chill, I need some nature!”
But you don’t have to go to nature, you ARE nature. You’re a living creature on the planet earth, we started here, in the forest, we’ll most likely end there as well. One of the worst thing we did as a species was to separate ourselves from nature. Have we ever felt wild and free like a wolf since then?
We’ve lost or howl my friends and we need to get it back….🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺
Indonesian officials have posted a reward for anyone who captures a Tasmanian Tiger, a doglike striped animal that zoologists say has been extinct for at least 60 years. While there’s no scientific proof of their existence, news reports this week quoted villagers as saying that packs of Tasmanian Tigers have been killing farm animals in moonlit attacks to feed their pups. The official Antara news agency said officials in the remote mountainous interior of Irian Jaya, the Indonesian-controlled western half of the island of New Guinea, offered $670 for the first Tasmanian Tiger captured alive.
Named after their only known habitat in Tasmania, an island state off southeastern Australia, the animals have dark stripes on their backs. They raise their young in pouches like kangaroos and other Australian marsupials. Hunted mercilessly by European sheep ranchers last century, they were declared extinct when Tasmanian Tiger back on ths prowl Villagers of Irian Jaya, the Indonesian-controlled western half of the island of New Guinea, have reported packs of Tasmanian Tigers killing farm animals. The Tasmanian Tiger, also called the Tasmanian Woff, is a large marsupial native to Tasmania. Scientists believed it’s been extinct for at least 60 years. The Tasmanian is about 5 leet long with light brown fur with dark stripes across its lower back The jaws of a Tasmanian Tiger are believed to open wider than any other mammal. They raised their young in pouches like other marsupials which include the kangaroo, koala, possum, Tasmanian Devil, and wallaby. The last known Tasmanian Tiger died in a zoo in Hobart in 1936. Dozens of unsubstantiated sightings have been made in Tasmania ever since. Now New Guinean villagers claim packs of six or seven Tasmanian Tigers have been killing pigs, cats and other domestic animals during the past month. The Indonesian Observer newspaper said one Tasmanian Tiger was killed recently by villagers and sold to highway workers who ate it for dinner.
Wisconsin State Journal, August 1997
Art by Jon MacNair
Seeing the thylacines last images from that zoo in the 30s is heartbreaking. Knowing we hunted an animal to extinction is almost unbearable. But as much as I hope they are still alive and hiding from humanity, I am very troubled about the idea of bringing them back. Their habitat is not what it once was and there is no guarantee at all they won’t be hunted mercilessly all over again.
They are beautiful creatures, and we should remember them as they were…
“I know how much we wished and needed that 2021 ball to drop We all hoped and prayed the covid and negativity would stop But a glittering ball, a symbol, won’t do the trick This is all humanities job to fix We have to want peace and make it so Forget your other resolutions, they have to go Who cares if your thin if you’re never happy Who needs to plan to travel more When covid has you laid up on the floor Your inner peace will come When we treat everyone like one We are all the same on this big rock And I’m happy to wear a mask and help stop the virus’s clock Who would know if you bad day, if that’s how treat people everyday anyway Smile, live, love, laugh Kick this negativity in the ass I don’t care if your democratic or republican, hunter or vegan You’re a human being and so am I And I’ll do whatever I have to, to make sure you don’t die I’ll also smile and I’ll help you if you fall If you ring I’ll answer your call Afterwards my heart too will feel ten foot tall My soul is at rest When I know I’ve done my best I’ve treated you how I would like to be Open your eyes and see See us as we are And set yourself a higher bar I know it’s hard to began, hard to see through it all But all of this starts with us Not that big glittery ball”
Poem be me, copyright 12/21
Happy New Year everyone, and remember, let all the negative be forgot, I’m happy to be here with all of you on this big beautiful rock… And may this be humanity’s best….
Fouke Monster Film Does Good BY DEBRA HALE Associated press Writer FOUKE, Ark (AP) —
He’s as tall as Wilt Chamberlain, almost as fast as a cheetah and as heavy as a gorilla. He has bushy hair, red eyes, a three-toed foot and a voice like a peacock’s. He is the legendary Fouke Monster, the main character in the movie “The Legend of Boggy Creek” starring Keith Crabree, Willie Smith and other residents of this southwest Arkansas community. Crabtree, who portrayed the monster, no longer lives in Fouke. Although the first recorded sight of the monster dates back to 1954, Smith, who plays himself in the movie and who provided the description of the monster, said his 75-year-old sister saw the creature when she was 10. it was not until last summer, though, that the Film Productions of Texarkana turned the legend into a moneymaking movie filmed in Fouke and nearby Texarkana. Producer-director Charles Pierce originally had planned to call the documentary film “Tracking the Fouke Monster.’’
The movie is called a documentary because, as its actual title suggests, the monster subject is treated as a legend. One year after the movie premiered residents of this small community, population .506. are beginning to realize that the movie could have bolstered the town’s economy if they only had acted sooner. “The people here in Fouke have missed the boat by not taking advantage of the publicity we have received and expanded on the monster theme.” said Mayor J.D. Larey of Fouke. “A novelty shop might have been the thing to bring in more money from tourists. But the people here just didn’t realize what they had when the iron was hot.”
Laney . a retired Air Force officer, noted, however, that such profits would not have had a lasting effect. One man who was involved in financial arrangements for the movie shared Larey’s opinion. “None of us dreamed that the darned thing would make the money that it did,” he said. “The man who made the movie had never made a movie in his life They guy who backed the movie had never backed a movie in his life. The people who acted in the movie had never acted before in their lives. I don’t think you could have foreseen anything like this. Laney said he receives several long-distance telephone calls and from three to 12 letters a day about the monster. Much of the mail is addressed directly to the mayor or to other city officials, but some of its is addressed to the Fouke Monster. Larey said the Post Office had decided to forward him all such mail. One such letter addressed to the “Boggy Creek Monster, Fouke. Ark.” was from a child saying she thought his movie was neat. One was to a City Official. And was from a member of the volunteer fire department in Martinsburg, W. Va The man inquired about the monster’s habitat, size and identity. The fireman said he also would “like to have some picutres of the monster. He promised to keep the information “confidential.”
Fouke residents say it is not unusual for a tourist to stop in their town to hunt for the creature in the swamp along Roggy Creek. One customer in the Boggy Creek Cafe, for example, recently said he had seen a man wandering through the swamps the previous day with a knife. The customer said the man told him he was hunting for the monster and that he had just spotted the creature’s claw print on the side of a tree trunk. “I just laughed at him.” the customer said as he drank a cup of coffee “He got mad.” Larey said, three Green Berets from Virginia recently telephoned him to ask if they could look for the monster during their leaves. Larey said he advised the men to wait until after deer hunting season. “I was afraid the game warden would pick them up.” he laughed.
The Miller County sheriff’s office does, in fact, forbid hunters to take guns into the woods to look for the monster except during deer season. They say this limits the possibility of a hunter’s shooting a human mistakenly thought to be the Fouke Monster. On Fouke’s main street, but still not far from Boggy Creek, is the Boggy Creek Cafe, owned and operated by Mr. and Mrs. Bill Williams. The cafe is one of two Businesses in Fouke that have capitalized on the monster. In addition to the regular menu items, a hungry customer can choose such items as the “Boggy Creek Breakfast,” a “Three-toed Sandwich” and a waffle and ice cream dessert called the “Boggy Creek Delight.” Money clips, cards, key chains, bumper stickers and ash trays with “Home of the Fouke Monster” written on them are sold behind the counter. The jukebox offers a Bobby Picket rendition of “Monster Mash.” The cafe also stock a reproduced souvenir print of what some persons say is the monster’s foot. The souvenir, autographed by Smith and Crabtree, is considerably smaller than the monster’s foot—which Smith said is 5 inches wide and 14 inches long. Mrs. Williams said 20 to 25 tourists stop by the small restaurant daily She said she never had seen the monster, but wanted to see it. “I believe there’s something out there. From the way the people I have talked to described it. Smith walked into the cafe. He saw a reporter, his eyes brightened and he started talking. Insisting that the monster was a vegetarian. Smith said he had seen it several times near his house along Boggy Creek. “First time I saw him was back in 1955. I though he was a man. I shot at him 15 times with an Army rifle, but missed him,” Smith said. “Next time he came up behind the house throwing rocks at my dog,” Smith added. “So. I shot through the brush and missed him again. ‘’The third time my wife and I were watching TV when I heard him. He slapped my dog across the porch into the screen door.” Again. Smith’s aim wasn’t too good; he said his shots missed the monster , which is said to run about 45 miles per hour . Smith said some other Fouke residents had heard the monster about two weeks ago, but that the creature didn’t sound like a peacock this time. “He was roaring and cutting up and sounded like a crazy man,”
If you’vebeen following along with me these past few years, then you know my love of the American industrial Revolution, King Phillips War and scenery of the Blackstone River Valley. So now imagine my excitement when I visit a place where they all come together so beautifully within this modern marvel of a park that you know just became on of my favorite places.
The centerpiece of the park, The Ashton Mill was built in 1810 in Cumberland Rhode Island for the Smithfield Cotton Company. The mill was built in this location to harness the power of the Blackstone River, one of America’s few Heritage Rivers that was named after William Blackstone who was an original founder and settler of Boston Massachusetts.
The company struggled and eventually sold the mill to the Lonsdale Company in approx. 1840. Lonsdale was a manufacturer of textiles and had tremendous success throughout the remainder of the 19th century.
Eventually it became a mill village as family housing was constructed. The mill employed men, women and children so family housing was a great need.
In 1848 the Providence and Worcester railroad was built to pass directly at front door of the mill. This provided a secondary mode of transportation to get goods to customers on time.
In the 1950s the industry really started to decline and by the 1970s it was simply cheaper for the companies to move to the south and then eventually overseas.
This park was such a great adventure. The mills once worked this river so hard no fish or river life, save leeches, where left living it . Now it’s thriving again and this park holds within it a snapshot of its history. While I was strolling along or I saw Someone fly fishing, I stared at the beautiful architecture of the 116 bridge, the amazing view of the river, a museum and all with the mills looming over everything. I will definitely be here often to make sure I’ve seen everything it has to offer. Here’s a little blurb about the history from the RI parks official website.
“While the feel and look of the Blackstone River State Park stitching together the river banks and the abutting boundaries of Cumberland and Lincoln, is definitely rural and naturalistic, the history of the land and waters making up the park is thoroughly industrial. At various points in the twelve-mile trek, one can see the remains of the area’s industrial past peek out from beneath the foliage and reflect in the waters. Mill dams, which once held back the river in order to power machinery, still mark the river’s drop at four locations. Sluices and power trenches, canal mile-stones, ground level, protruding shapes of cellar holes of former worker tenements, along with recycled mills now used as apartments and small businesses dot the path. The observant visitor is challenged to discover the legacy layers of this landscape of industry.”
I recommend if you’re ever in the area, to make a stop and spend the day. There is something here for everyone….
Vernon, B. C, Oct. 24. With a human footprint nineteen inches long, the big toe alone measuring five inches, it is left to the imagination to fill in the superstructure of this huge monster that has frightened the inhabitants of this smiling valley. Men, women and children have turned out to look with awe and wonder at the mysterious and .enormous “hoof.” It is a naked human foot in all the essentials, and its partner is at the other side of a six-foot creek, giving some idea of the pre-historic stride of the creature.
A resident was calmly sawing timber when a gentleman of the neighborhood came up to him and sprung the yarn on him so suddenly that he thought he had somebody from the New Westminster institution to deal with. But the informant was perfectly sane, and produced a stick with the pedal particulars carefully marked. The footprint was down the hill there for anybody to see. No one certainly ever heard of the fertile Okanagan producing stray giants but an old Indian gives color to the theory by averring that forty years ago there were what he terms giants who stole children and things. Perhaps this may be the last of the Canadian mound dwellers.
The reservation folks have certainly had a genuine scare and have called up all the whites round about to help them out. Rifles are all loaded and lanterns lit about in the darkness, so that it is unsafe for a stranger to loom up into view to suddenly when the least crash in the bush is sufficient to excite their tense nervous system.
Some have gone on the trail on horseback with magazine guns, but a few men even with a Maxim under each arm might not stand the ordeal of confronting a hairy monster some thirteen feet high, judging by the feet. Besides, the possession of the creature alive would be as good a financial “spec” as a valuable quarter section of Okanagan land. As there are no people around here to hoax and the Indians are too grave and occupied to manufacture footprints for sport the story and the evidence are just as stated, the Indians themselves being the most concerned and serious over it.”