BWBS Ep:110 Bigfoot In My Bird Feeder

These aren't your typical Bigfoot stories.
No grainy photos. No stomping footprints. No overpowering stench.These five encounters go deeper—into something far more unsettling: the intelligence behind the presence.Jake was driving home from the paper mill when his headlights caught a figure by the roadside. It didn’t flinch. Didn’t even look his way. It stood there, still and distant, like it belonged—and Jake didn’t.At a remote campsite, Sarah and her friends joked and laughed until something in the woods began echoing them with eerie precision.

Each response came with a ten-second delay, as if it were learning—processing—before answering back.

Dorothy had been feeding birds outside her kitchen for years. Then one night, something much larger than a raccoon started emptying her feeders. The moment she locked eyes with it through the window, she knew: it wasn’t just scavenging. It was curious. Watching. Thinking.

Dave had hunted the same woods for decades. He knew the terrain like his own backyard—until he realized something was retracing his exact path, studying his scent trails and tree marks like it was collecting clues.And then there's Maria. Her midnight guest didn’t roar or threaten. It organized the tools on her porch, arranging them with a care that felt deliberate, almost helpful. It was as if it wanted to communicate—on its own terms.

These aren't stories of fear—they're stories of awareness.
Moments where people realized they weren't alone.
Moments where the watcher became the watched.

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