This is Isabella from the far north, somewhere in Scotland where, if you recall, it appears a family of Bigfoot have become habituated to a locality near my home. For more than a year I’ve observed what I can of their presence, after the alpha male of this clan appeared on the hill above my cottage, making himself known for reasons I’m still trying to figure out.
As you know, it’s become clear that his clan communicate — generally undetected — through bird calls. And what I thought an unusual presence of a huge band of owls in the woods next to my home is actually bigfoot conversing on their travels between the mountains beyond and the river below. And he watches me as well, having made a hidey-hole in the rhododendron shrubbery over the lane, where he can see me at the dining table as I write. It even seems that this bigfoot throws primitive woven stick-toys into the garden for my dog.