CONVERSATIONS WITH SASQUATCH, THE BEGINNING
Episode 17 by Bigfoot Book Series Author Richard Rensberry
All previous episodes can be found at: ( https://www.conversationswithsasquatch.com/bigfoot-book-the-beginning.html )
I breakfast on the remaining fruits left over from my trip. I am excited about getting the electricity turned on and the well primed, everything up and running later in the day. But first, I have time for a nostalgic trek into my newly inherited forest. I can still recall some of the game trails and the trees in which I had built platforms and forts as a kid. I had spent so much time in these wilds back then, I still know them better than the streets of nearby towns like Atlanta or Mio.
Are all my childhood friends still out and about, I wonder? Were they figments of my imagination or real? I am starting to get the idea from Cecil’s journals that they were equally as real as my adult life spent in San Francisco, for the simple reason those four decades lost in the city are now fading away and seeming more imaginary than my childhood.
As I enter the cedars where the spring feed creek gurgles and giggles it way south toward the AuSable River, the autumn air is heavy and laden with dampness. Dew droplets trickle down my arms and neck as I part the cedar bows and follow the wending stream. ( Continued at: https://www.conversationswithsasquatch.com/bigfoot-book-the-beginning.html )
EPISODE 5, THE ADVENTURES OF SASQUATCH CAT
Conversations With Sasquatch Series Author Richard Rensberry
Sol is not your stereotypical overweight, lazy, house cat. Having spent his early years living among the Sasquatch, he is in top physical form and enhances his daily physical and mental acuity by joining me in my morning exercises. I do a routine of breathing, isometrics, cardio and yoga from which Sol discriminately picks and chooses. He especially likes a yoga exercise called “Salute The Sun” as well as a strenuous set of good old fashioned pull-ups that he does on his scratch post platform. ( Continued at: ( continued at https://www.conversationswithsasquatch.com/sasquatch-cat.html )
THE ADVENTURES OF SASQUATCH CAT, EPISODE #4
by Conversations With Sasquatch book series author
Richard Rensberry ( https://www.conversationswithsasquatch.com )
I was hard at work in the office when Sol, our Sasquatch cat, jumped up on my desk and sat on my paperwork. He then proceeded to swat my pen until I put it down.
I politely asked him what he wanted.
He gave me a quick kiss and a couple of head bumps, meowed, then jumped off the desk, and dashed from the room.
A minute later, when I did not respond properly, Sol returned with impatient chatter, imploring me to hurry up and follow him to the kitchen. There, he promptly stood on his hind legs and pressed his front paws and nose to the window. When I joined him and peered out, an opossum the size of a large raccoon was peering longingly straight back us. The possum’s pink hands were swimming around on the glass in an attempt to reach in and touch Sol. I got the distinct impression they had been previously acquainted. (Continued at: https://www.conversationswithsasquatch.com/sasquatch-cat.html )
CONVERSATIONS WITH SASQUATCH, THE BEGINNING
Episode 14 by Michigan author Richard Rensberry
(All previous episodes available at: https://www.conversationswithsasquatch.com/bigfoot-book-the-beginning.html )
I pick up Cecil’s journal dated nearest to present time and read the final few pages entitled “The Great Misunderstanding Regarding Bigfoot Encounters.” (continued at: https://www.conversationswithsasquatch.com/bigfoot-book-the-beginning.html
Thought is not a house
We do not end
at our fingertips
and we can walk
further than our legs
can carry us.
We can see beyond the reach
(continued at https://www.conversationswithsasquatch.com/sasquatch-poems.html )
Our Sasquatch cat is named Sol. The Forest People rescued him from near death after his woodland caretaker passed away of old age. Sol was taken in by the Big Creek Sasquatch and nursed back to life from a state of severe loneliness and starvation.
Some gifts are more precious than others, and Sol came to us as a gift of pure sunshine. We thank the Sasquatch and all the good forces that brought him into our circle. He is fearless, gentle and loving, a guardian spirit of perseverance and courage. If a cat can be certain of himself, Sol is just that. Nothing rattles him, not even the vacuum cleaner.
His one peculiar quirk is his friendship with mice. You would think that after living in the woods and nearly starving, he’d be a ravenous mouse carnivore, but he’s not. He does enjoy catching and toying with them and is quite skillful in that regard. The problem being, is that he then brings them into the house and lets them go. I have tried to explain to him that we do not condone mice taking up residence in the house, would he please keep his little friends outside, but he just smiles, blinks his eyes, and brings them inside anyway.
Richard Rensberry, Bigfoot Book Series author 1/24/22
I immediately sense that a disembodied Cecil has been waiting for this day, excited and giddy to see me. He has invited all his Sasquatch friends and a myriad of supernatural little people that he once introduced me to when I was a kid. I am blasted by their ethereal scrutiny and eerie frequencies as I step out of the car to take inventory of my inheritance. My whole body feels their eyes and begins to throb like a bee sting. My forehead prickles with a cold sweat.
I walk gingerly and take pause on the cobbled path, overwhelmed by nostalgia. Several barn swallows shatter the spell as they suddenly dart from beneath the house’s eaves and swoop at me in angry defiance. I have disturbed their peace. They cackle and shriek, making an all out effort to drive me away. I wave my arms at their bomb runs and duck under the sanctuary of the porch, there I turn and momentarily chuckle at their antics of persuasion.
The porch boards have separated and have been rubbed raw, but easily take my weight without a moan. There is a padlock on the door to which the court has granted me Cecil’s ownership key.
Inside, though a thick patina of dust has accumulated on the floors, the place looks mostly at peace and undisturbed. There are patches of swallow and pigeon poop on some areas of the walls directly beneath their nests, but all in all, I feel a wave of gratitude that it has not been ransacked by transients or teenagers with a lust for breaking and entering. I think its condition speaks (continued at https://www.conversationswithsasquatch.com/conversations-with-sasquatch-the-beginning.html )
CONVERSATIONS WITH SASQUATCH, THE BEGINNING—
Book Ground Zero of the Conversations with Sasquatch series
by Michigan author Richard Rensberry
The last house on the left is where the pigeons roost, huddled in a perfect row atop the grey-green roof peak next to the iron lightning rods that point to the heavens like weary crosses. There are still intact panes of glass in some of the dark windows, but mostly the interior is naked to the wind that makes a wheeze and a sigh as it climbs the creaking stairs into the attic.
The old homestead is mine, now. Handed down with a substantial tax lien and a weathered “No Trespassing” sign tacked to the front door.
I had surmised I would probably want nothing to do with the old place when I received notice from the court. I had planned my trip to Comins in order to do whatever was necessary to help the county auction it off in order to satisfy the delinquent tax revenue needs. That was my intention before I arrived on a blustery, sunny day in September.
The two lone sugar maples shading the front yard weed patch are ablaze in a patina of glorious reds, oranges and golds. The leaves are picked up by the wind and twirl in the air like a migrating swarm of butterflies. I am immediately struck by the forlorn beauty of the weather beaten house sitting serenely in its quaint setting beside a small creek, the golden rod and Black-eyed Susans, the cobbled path that leads poetically to the stick railing and columned front porch that is now beginning to sag beneath the weight of time. The red brick chimney on the north side facing is listing outward toward a gnarled orchard of apple and pear, in what looks like a desperate attempt to flee the gray, mottled skin of alligatored paint.
Any sane person would turn around and run. But, I am not always the sane one, you would soon find that out if you were to ask the remaining members of my family. I have never been one to toe the conventional line of thinking or believe that I had to follow the dictates of self-inaugurated authorities. I have often rejected the status quo in order to forge a life of my own making. I am now beginning to understand the process of how and why Uncle Cecil came to the conclusion of leaving to me, and me alone, 931 Reber Road.
The rest of my siblings can simply wish their wipe their hands of the place without even a sideways glance, though there are a couple of my brothers that I am sure are bitching about their lost claim to the land, 295 acres all told.
Cecil must have known that I would see beauty where no one else in the family would appreciate it. And then there is my penchant for conversing with Sasquatch, Gnomes and even the dearly departed. These entities have always existed in abundance here. Maybe Uncle Cecil saw turning the house over to me as a opportunity to hang around and haunt the place, or even sit down on the front porch with a bootle of Schnapps and me, for a seance on the merits of growing hemp instead of corn. Whatever the reason, here I am, enamored with what I am sure is considered by the community, an eyesore.
BIGFOOT PARCHMENT # 23 PATIENCE
This is a planet
where souls got dumped
and lost forever; rebels, artists and the malcontent.
We seldom get along.
We invented war and politics.
The Sasquatch watch, wait
and shake their heads. They transmigrate
out of their dimension
into this world of deep dark shit…
and mind-speak to us few that will listen.
I’ve been informed,
“Patience is a virtue until it ain’t.”
Richard Rensberry, author of the Conversation With Sasquatch series of books.