Recently, I was camping in a quiet, secluded spot in the woodland. It was autumn, and I woke early to restoke the camp fire, and enjoy the serenade of black and white songbirds. It was chilly, and I enjoyed the warmth and smell of the campfire for a while, until finally the sunshine begun its dappled dance on the dew covered ground, like a delicate moving mosaic, and I decided to go for a walk.
I was eager to explore the area, which was cloaked in darkness the night before, when I had arrived. I was walking for quite a while, just enjoying some solitude, completely lost in my musings, and grateful for this brand new day. It felt good to stretch out as I enjoyed the surrounds, which were full of nature sounds and beautiful tall paperbark tree friends, huddling around me. I noticed a little track off into the scrub, and me being the inquisitive adventurer I am, darted off to see what I could find.
The sound of running water reached my ears. I followed the sound, and after a short time, and an unpleasant encounter with a sticky wheel of grossness, came to a little clearing by a creek. In that moment, I wasn’t sure what I had stumbled across, and I it felt totally unexpected. Having not seen anything like this before, I stood for a couple of minutes and just staired, trying to the reason it out in my mind. If I had to describe the feeling, it was like a confusion or disorientation I suppose, and it wasn’t until sometime later, that I really reflected deeply on this moment in time, and the feelings that followed.
I knew this was a chapel of some description, although I had never seen, nor heard of anything like this before, and with its rustic wooden pews and shelter over the alter, it seemed so eerily out of place in the bush. The area seemed to be maintained, which was also interesting. I looked up into the canopy of trees towering over me, and they reminded me of the high vaulted ceilings you see in big cathedrals. Not that I’m an indoctrinated person, although I do consider myself deeply spiritual, and feel closest to source when I’m communing in nature, and experience the presence of God everywhere and in everything.
It was at that moment, I noticed the trees were no longer swaying, and everything was completely still and quiet all of a sudden. No rustling of the leaves, no bird song, nor humming of insects, just an eerie silence surrounded me, and this place took on a sudden creepy vibe, and I felt my skin prickle, and myself ready to flee. It was as if I had stepped into a deeply intimate space, where a personal gathering was taking place, possibly a funeral, because the energy felt quite dark and heavy. I began briskly walking back to the camp site.
I can count on my hands the number of times in my life I have had that exact creepy feeling. It’s gut level unsettling and I can’t quite put my finger on it, or logically process it at the time. But I do know and trust, without a shadow of a doubt, that my intuition is definitely telling me loud and clear, to promptly skedaddle. One thing I have learnt, is that my senses never let me down! I don’t need to know why, I don’t need to reason it out, I don’t even need to understand it, I just need to trust that this particular visceral sensation will always protect me!
Weather the result of an unseen threat lurking, stagnant historic energy, a haunted space or presence, or processing cognitive dissonance, my survival instinct kicked into gear, and I’m sure grateful I can trust my inner knowing today. Because they were some spooky vibes, and I don’t hold any fear based insecurity, as far as I know.
I did return there with my husband to take a quick snapshot. Mainly because I was so intrigued by this open air cathedral, and my response surrounding it. I later discovered that they are generally quite rare, although used by the scout movement as reflection spaces during camps. Who knew!
Have you ever experienced a feeling anything like this before? Have you been involved in a scout camp and remember this? I would love to hear your story.
Thanks for reading.
The moment you describe, standing frozen and trying to reason it out, honestly happens way more than we usually admit. the sensory piece arrives first, understanding catches up later, and we're trained to treat that gap as a problem.
That sounds like a fairly intense experience - I don't blame you for trusting your gut/senses and heading back to camp - alone with that eerie silence in the woods - creepy. It is fascinating that it turned out to be a Scout chapel - those spaces definitely would hold a lot of history and energy. Thank you for sharing.