On Saturday it rained, a quiet, evening rain, and the birds in the trees huddled together in their nests, keeping each other warm. I thought I saw, standing at the end of the forest, the figure of a giant. Bigfoot, perhaps, or some other forgotten spirit longing to be remembered. How silently he stood, not venturing from the cover of the trees. He saw, I think, that I saw. I watched as our eyes met across the distance as his body stiffened. He stood there frozen a moment and a half before darting back into the shadows. Such are dreams.
Bigfoot
Tale Told 