They're Here

Journal Entry, JE, 8/25/25. Noon-ish.

Today’s newscast is more of the same: unexplained radio bursts, complex patterns in data, and anomalous atmospheric phenomena. Scientists are scrambling to find something definitive to report. Meanwhile, the Government is deploying the National Guard at strategic locations across the country. Massive demonstrations are going on everywhere; people chanting for a peaceful interplanetary greeting, others screaming for protection from the invaders. “Something unprecedented is approaching.” That’s what the anchorman said, the one with the dark, glossy hair—a curly tendril hangs in front of his forehead, and his grin that says never, ever, buy a used car from this man.

How do I feel about all this? Hmm. I remember a time twenty years ago, when I was sixteen…Uncle Lee, sitting on his front porch on balmy evenings in Dogpatch, Pennsylvania, swearing that “they’ll land any day” and take him away with them. “I’ll go happily,” he said.

“But what if they’re scary?” I had asked him. “What if they aren’t nice?”

“Gail,” said Uncle Lee, rocking forward in his chair and looking me straight in the eyes. “I know they are nice. And together we are going to have the time of our lives.” He chortled then, from low in his chest, like he knew something, and it was rooted down deep inside of him. Knew it so good he’d not be swayed by hell or highwater.

Uncle Lee died a few years after that. Right there on his front porch, still sitting in that oversized rocking chair, looking up, fingers of his right hand spread in the Spock-gesture from Star Trek—the Vulcan salute. “Live long and prosper” was one of Uncle Lee’s favorite sayings. Journal, do you think he finally got his wish?

JE 8/28/25. 8pm

I spoke with the neighbor today. Jake says he and his friends are sky-watching every night, waiting for the extraterrestrial’s ship-lights to show up. He even cleared some ground for them to land! Meantime, the folks at the end of the road are shooting target practice day and night. I think they have a different kind of welcome in mind. That scares me more than the idea of ET’s arriving, journal—greeting them with guns and violence. I mean, if they can travel to other planets, wouldn’t you think they might be pretty intelligent? Well journal, hopefully, if they’re coming here, they did their homework. They’ll keep their distance from the idiots.

JE 8/29/25 6:08 am

Roscoe’s been barking most of the night. I don’t know what’s bothering him. The wind is up, that could be it. I made some tea and turned on the TV. News came on loud, showing a newscaster standing outside, her hair and clothes blowing like crazy, she struggled to stay on her feet. The camera panned upwards and she shouted about the clouds blowing across the sky. I never saw anything like it, journal! Masses of clouds, billowing and rolling—it looked like a thunderstorm gearing up at high speed. I looked out my window and sure enough, the clouds were doing somersaults up there! Craziest thing I ever saw! I wonder if a tornado is coming! But we don’t get tornadoes here.

Then the news showed that Reverend guy. The big churchy guy who’s always preaching about the end of the world. He says the pious (sounds like pies, the way he says it) the pies will be swept up to heaven and the rest of us sinners will be afeared for our lives as we burn up by fire and that if the ET’s are coming, they are not sent by God, and you know who that leaves…the devil himself is having a roundup! Ha! What an ass.

Then the news showed some artist’s exhibits of what ET may look like. Everything from little green men with teardrop-shaped heads and huge black eyes, to cephalopods with arms waving, like in the movie Arrival. Then there’s the artists who drew the creature from Alien. Ugh. That gives me the heeby-jeebies. But one guy showed his rendering and I gotta tell you journal, it really caught my attention. I got chills looking at it. It showed a vague humanoid outline—ghostly—kind of watery, it seemed to waver, appearing and disappearing when he angled the canvas—must have been done with watercolors. There was just something about it. Believe it or not, it was beautiful.

JE 9/3/25 4:45pm

Hey journal! The news folks are saying scientific institutions have convened task forces to devise protocols for greeting and communicating with extraterrestrial visitors. Makes me wonder who will talk to whom first. They say linguists and cryptographers are working to prepare translation tools, while biologists and medical experts consider the implications of new lifeforms—in terms of health and biology. You know, journal, it may sound silly, but it makes me think back to the days of Columbus landing in America. I’ve read that the natives looked out to sea and couldn’t see the ships, because they had no precedent for that kind of thing. Only the shaman was able to see the vessels, because he had an open and receptive third eye. I have an open and receptive third eye! What if the ETs look nothing like we imagine? What if they are so different we can’t even grasp the reality of them? I keep thinking about that artist’s picture… that watery, wavery image. Oh! Oh, journal! What if it’s like in that movie, The Abyss? The ET is a giant creature that surfaces from the ocean’s depths. What if they’re already here! Could be they’ll just come a-knockin’. Just come on in for a cup of tea, sneak right past all the hullabaloo and be right neighborly.

And Roscoe is barking again. See you later, journal.

JE 9/5/25 10 something am

Dear journal. Sorry I haven’t been around for a few days. I’ve got so much to tell you. Roscoe was so excited. He kept barking at the door, jumping up and down, wagging his tail like an old friend was on the other side. I yelled,” who’s there?” But when I checked through the window, there was no one. But wowsers! The sky was still swirling with crazy clouds and there were so many colors! Blues and greens and purples and pinks, it was like those pictures of Aurora Borealis in Alaska. Draperies of color rippling and unfolding. I had to see it. I opened the door and stepped out onto the landing and as I did, I got wet! At first, I thought the clouds had dropped rain just on my porch. It felt so weird, like I’d walked through a foggy patch that left me damp. And my skin! It looked like an oil slick with a sheen of colors on top. The wind blew. Roscoe wouldn’t stop barking. The colors wavered on my skin—then gone! The sky kept doing that crazy color dance. I ducked back inside. Roscoe followed me but then he bounced back outside, looking up at something. Gave me the willies. I finally got him back inside. He quieted down a bit but kept whining and that tail of his wagged like he'd been invited to the best ball game ever.

(Tears splash the page)

JE Later

Oof. Sorry dear journal, got a little emotional there—had to take a break. Thanks for waiting for me. Yeah. Roscoe was the happiest a pup could be and I couldn’t figure out why. I went to the kitchen to put the kettle on. You’re not going to believe what happened next. I mean, I can hardly believe it. Gotta write it down before it fades away like some fantastic dream.

Roscoe’s ball was on the counter. I thought about grabbing it up to play with him. Then it moved! It rolled towards the edge of the counter. Roscoe sat there, his tail going like mad. The ball stopped at the edge. Roscoe stood and barked, and the ball went over the edge! Roscoe caught it. Every hair on my body stood up. Roscoe went to the living room and dropped the ball. Then he sat, waiting, looking up, but not at me. He was looking at something I couldn’t see. But then suddenly I could see it. Just a shimmer. A shimmer of colors, like when you blow soap bubbles and can see the swirly colors inside. At first it seemed like it was a round shape, floating at head level. Then more of it became apparent. All I could do was stare. I wasn’t afraid—not exactly—but I think I stopped breathing because the whistle on the kettle startled me. I gasped so hard I choked. I fell backwards. Something cushioned my fall. It all happened so fast, yet…like slow motion. I was falling, then I felt supported by something that lowered me to the floor. My back felt damp. I thought, am I bleeding? Roscoe came over and licked my face. Here’s the weird part, journal. When I went to get up off the floor, l felt something helping me up. Like I was buoyed, floating sort of. I can’t explain it. But I swear that before I even got my feet under me, I was raised up and set onto them, all in a perfectly fluid motion.

The tea kettle was still whistling. I made tea and took it to the table. Okay, did I say it was weird before? Listen to this…I lifted my cup to take a sip. Too hot. Steam rising from the top. Through the steam I saw it. Sitting across the table from me. Just an outline at first. All wavering and iridescent and flowy, it was like seeing water without a container—but contained—in my house! Journal. There was an ET in my house!

9/8/25 JE 9am

I mean, if you stop and think about it, it’s brilliant. You go to visit a new planet. You study it first and find out that the inhabitants tend to be easily alarmed and can be dangerous…that they have methods of attack, and they tend to rely on those first and ask questions later. But you also learn that some of the inhabitants (like Uncle Lee) are peaceful and curious and even welcoming. What do you do to make contact?

Play. It’s just that simple, journal. And who loves to play more than Springer Spaniels? Roscoe and the ET were playing ball in my house before I even realized we had company. As I looked across the table through the steam coming off my cup, I saw the ET. It saw me seeing it. I got scared. But Roscoe sat there with the ball at his feet, tail thumping the floor. And the colors! Like seeing a rainbow through the rain. It reached out to me, touched me. I saw that slick of color on my skin again. That’s what happens when it touches me. It felt damp and cool. And it passed a message into me. No, that's not right—but something passed between us. No words spoken—just a sense of peace came over me. And a thought came to me. It was saying hello.

Roscoe picked up the ball and whined. I watched the colors flow toward him and wrap around the ball, take it from his mouth, and toss it. I heard a gurgling sound. The ET was laughing. I laughed too. Until tears ran down my cheeks. I couldn’t help it. And the fear was gone. Just like that.

Oh, and look—the page is wet. Why is the page wet?

JE 9/9/25 morning

Dear Journal. It’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced! There are no words. Literally—no words. We don’t speak to each other. But we do communicate. It’s all about feelings. The Water Being (that’s what I call the ET) has this ability to sense what I’m feeling and share what it’s feeling. I don’t know for sure, but what I think happens is when it touches me it tunes into what I’m feeling. It’s all in the water. Ha Ha. All emotions are like water—fluid—like the ET. This is so weird—but really, it’s not. It’s just so hard to explain. But journal, guess what? Tomorrow the Water Being is taking me away. Just for a short time. I’ll be back soon. In time to feed Roscoe.

JE Next day, I think

Dear Journal. It’s the water! OMG! No, no, it’s more than that. It’s the colors! Oh dear, I’m not making sense. How…where do I start? Oh, the heck with it! It’s my journal—I don’t have to make sense to anybody but me.

I went with the water-being. First, we went outside. Above us the sky was a theatrical production of thick, voluminous clouds, rolling and tumbling. There were flashes of light within them, like lightning. How odd, to see so much motion without any sound. The ET and I stood together and he, she, it, they (I have no idea) enveloped me. That’s the only way I can think of describing it. I felt that sensation again of being buoyed, floating. I felt happy. I started crying, then laughing…my hands and arms were coated with colors. My body became fluid. I know, I know. It’s crazy sounding. It felt wonderful. The most immense joy rose within me. I think when the ET touches me it brings out what’s already in me. Feelings that have always existed but never been free. That’s it! That’s the feeling. So much freedom. We were suddenly in the clouds, not looking at them from below, but in them. And everywhere was color. More color than I knew existed. As if the rainbow spectrum had just been widened to accommodate a bunch more colors. And I was on the spectrum! And I was flowing in the air, in the clouds, weaving in and out and every color had a sound and every sound played upon my colors and evoked feelings and I burst into tears, but I was already liquid, and my tears were salty and, and…

Journal, did you know the sun contains every color? That a ray of sun is life energy. That water and sun are playmates. That color is communication. That everything has a vibrational sound—that joy can sustain itself. And…

that sadness cannot, unless we work at it.

Dear Journal. Your pages are wet. The colors are running. I still feel like I’m more fluid than solid body, but I think that’s all the emotions I’m still feeling. I’m going to let the pen rest for now. Roscoe is back in the bathtub again. He can’t get enough of playing in the water.