This Episode was pure nightmare fuel! -Travis Taylor

I’m wondering, have we maybe I don’t know, just sort of messed with things out here a little bit. You know, this is an area that’s got high strangeness and some really strange GPS activity.

Thomas, for years, strange things have been happening at Skinwalker Ranch.

Lights in the sky, strange creatures, broken equipment, and stories that seem too strange to be true. But in season 6, episode 6 of The Secret of Skinwalker Ranch, things take a major turn.

This time, the team doesn’t just see strange things around the mesa. They find something inside it.

What started as a normal drilling job turns into something much bigger. Water disappears into the ground. Metal objects are found where only rock should be, and strange signals begin to show up. Signals that almost seem to copy the team’s own equipment.

The deeper they go, the more it feels like they’re uncovering something that’s been hidden for a very long time.

Some of the team begin to wonder, “What if Skinwalker Ranch isn’t just a place where strange things happen? What if it’s a doorway to something else? And what if something or someone is on the other side watching them?”

Hey everyone, if you haven’t seen season 6, episode 6 of The Secret of Skinwalker Ranch titled Posting Up, you’re missing one of the most intense deep dives into the mystery-laced mesa yet.

Led by astrophysicist Dr. Travis Taylor, the team embarks on a bold high-stakes mission to penetrate the ancient brooding Rockface of the Mesa, a place that has long been at the heart of speculation, whispers, and downright bizarre phenomena.

What lies beneath it? Is it simply geological wonder or something more?

With months of anticipation, failed attempts, and growing frustration behind them, the team finally breaks through. The first of two parallel bore holes is successfully drilled into the mesa.

But what they find defies easy explanation.

Disappearing water, strange metal signatures, and most chillingly, the possible presence of a hollow cavity, a void, where there shouldn’t be one.

A natural formation or something deliberately hidden?

Why would water vanish inside solid rock? What could explain the reading showing a dense metallic object embedded deep within?

And this void, could it be a chamber, a construct, or even a gateway?

With tension mounting, archaeologist Chris Roberts is brought into the fold. His mission: to examine the drilling spoils for any signs of artifacts, anything that might hint at human activity, ancient civilizations, or something far more advanced.

His presence marks a turning point.

Until now, the team had leaned heavily on physics, military science, and engineering. Now with archaeology in the mix, a whole new lens is added. One that peers into the distant past while the others probe the secrets of space, energy, and unknown forces.

As the second borehole begins, the team stands on the brink of something unprecedented.

Could this be the breakthrough they’ve been chasing for years?

Could there be a buried structure, a vault of forgotten knowledge, or even technology not of this earth?

Each new sound from the drill, every sensor reading, pushes the mystery further into uncharted territory.

And the most haunting question of all, are they merely uncovering the secrets of the mesa or awakening something that was never meant to be disturbed?

What begins as a straightforward drilling operation soon spirals into one of the most mystifying moments ever recorded at Skinwalker Ranch.

As the drill bites its way roughly 85 ft deep into the rugged sandstone formation of the mesa, everything seems routine until it isn’t.

Suddenly, something impossible happens.

The drill team halts in confusion.

The water, hundreds of gallons used to cool and lubricate the bit, should have cycled back up to the surface, a standard part of any bore operation.

But this time, nothing returns.

The bore hole remains dry. The water has vanished completely and without explanation.

It doesn’t leak out. It doesn’t pool. It doesn’t come back.

It’s as if the mesa has swallowed it whole.

Is this simply a porous layer of sandstone? A freak geological feature?

The team doesn’t think so because they’ve seen this before.

In a haunting moment of déjà vu, they recall an experiment from 3 years prior.

Smoke bombs dropped into cracks and the mesa disappeared into the stone as though being sucked into a vacuum.

No trace, no residual smoke, just gone.

It wasn’t just odd back then.

Now it’s starting to look like a pattern.

What if the mesa isn’t solid rock all the way through?

What if beneath its craggy surface lies a vast hidden labyrinth of caverns?

Or worse, what if this isn’t natural at all?

Could it be engineered?

The idea sends a ripple of tension through the group.

An artificial structure, underground chambers.

Could there be an ancient vault long buried or a technology dormant and undiscovered hidden beneath layers of earth for centuries or millennia?

Could this be a space gate, a containment system, or a message left behind by another intelligence?

The questions mount and so does the pressure to dig deeper, both literally and figuratively.

They turn to GPR expert Yen Frank, who arrives armed with a game-changing tool, a custom engineered ground penetrating radar device originally developed for exploring the internal chambers of the Egyptian pyramids.

It’s sleek, high-tech, and built to detect what the eye cannot see.

Carefully, the team lowers the device into the bore hole.

Its mission: to scan the subsurface and reveal any voids, materials, or shapes that might explain the disappearing water and earlier anomalies.

Then, the screen lights up.

The data starts to come in and what it shows stuns the entire command trailer into silence.

What exactly does the GPR detect?

Is it a chamber, a tunnel, a craft?

And is it still active?

Whatever lies beneath the mesa, it’s not just stone.

It’s a secret, one that’s been waiting to be found.

And now someone has finally knocked on its door.

A hush falls over the control room as Yen Frank adjusts the GPR device’s interface.

Eyes fixed on the monitor.

One by one, data pulses across the screen: dense readings, void spaces, and something else.

Something geometric.

“What is that?” Travis Taylor mutters, leaning in, his brow furrowed. “That’s not natural.”

The team gathers around the monitor, the glow of the screen casting pale shadows across their faces.

At approximately 80 to 85 ft, the radar signature reveals a perfectly symmetrical anomaly.

A space with sharp, clean boundaries.

Not irregular like a cave, not chaotic like fractured stone, but structured, too precise to be random.

A chamber: rectangular, possibly hollow.

And it’s not aligned with the bore hole.

It’s off to the side, as if hidden intentionally, just beyond the drill’s reach.

Even more bizarre metallic echoes begin bouncing back from the radar sweep.

Not just dense mineral content, but reflections consistent with machine material, possibly metal alloys.

Yet there’s no known explanation for how such materials could exist there.

No historical mining, no buried debris, no geological justification.

“What the hell is that made of?” someone whispers.

Could it be a craft or a container?

Is it shielding something or someone?

Suddenly, a realization hits them all at once.

If this anomaly is man-made or worse, not man-made, then it means someone or something placed it there deliberately.

But for what purpose? To store, to hide, to protect, or to contain.

Tensions mount.

Theories spiral.

Is this a sealed vault from a lost civilization?

Could it be an extraterrestrial probe sent to monitor Earth from beneath the surface?

Or is it a dimensional device built to regulate the very phenomena that Skinwalker Ranch is known for?

The strange lights, electromagnetic disturbances, sightings, and more.

Whatever it is, one thing becomes chillingly clear.

They’ve stumbled onto something intelligent.

Something that isn’t supposed to be found easily.

And if it’s been hidden this well for so long, why now?

Why is it revealing itself now?

Because of the drilling, because they’re close, or because it wants to be discovered.

Dr. Travis Taylor glances at the screen again and says, “What everyone is thinking, but afraid to voice. This isn’t just a scientific anomaly. It’s a message or a warning.”

And the deeper they drill, the louder it seems to echo.

The data pouring from Yen Frank’s ground penetrating radar grows stranger by the second.

Multiple strong consistent reflections appear deep within the mesa in places where nothing should be.

Natural sandstone is supposed to be uniform, dense, predictable.

But this, this is the opposite.

At least two distinct shapes are visible, and both reflect the radar signal in a manner unmistakably consistent with metallic material.

These aren’t loose fragments or mineral pockets.

They have definition, edges, and most chillingly, intentional placement.

But then something even more unnerving happens.

The GPR unit halts abruptly.

The probe can’t descend any farther.

Not because of the drill angle or friction from the bore walls.

No, it stops exactly at the location of one of the metallic anomalies.

“It’s like it hit a wall,” Yen says, perplexed.

But there’s no wall.

At least not one made of anything the mesa should contain.

The crew runs diagnostics.

There’s no sign of mechanical failure.

The bore hole remains clear, yet the probe refuses to pass beyond a certain point, as if something invisible, impenetrable, is blocking it.

Could it be a dense core of metal?

Or is it something more exotic?

An energy field?

Dr. Travis Taylor, never one to shy away from a wild theory grounded in hard science, throws out a possibility that chills the room.

What if we’re dealing with a protective barrier? A containment field?

The word hangs in the air like static.

A field that would mean technology, not geology.

Something deliberately designed to shield, hide, or trap the objects buried within.

But why would something need protection at 85 ft underground?

Is it keeping us out or keeping something in?

That’s when the mesa strikes back.

As the team prepares to drill deeper, hoping to bypass the mysterious obstruction, the equipment begins to fail in rapid succession.

First, the drill sensors glitch.

Then, communications flicker, filled with static and half sentences.

Moments later, the GPS coordinates begin to spiral, throwing off positional data by tens, even hundreds of meters.

The operations tent erupts into controlled chaos.

Check the feed.

Recalibrate.

Something’s interfering.

But the most terrifying moment comes not from the instruments, but from human eyes.

One of the technicians monitoring the borehole feed suddenly stiffens in his seat.

“Wait, what is that?”

He rewinds the footage frame by frame.

In the dim, jagged outline of the tunnel, just for a split second, something appears.

A figure, humanoid, still watching, then gone.

No trace, no shadow, no heat signature.

The room falls silent.

Is that a person?

Did someone get down there?

There’s no one in the hole.

Then what the hell did we just see?

Panic is carefully masked by professionalism.

But the tension is undeniable.

Could it have been a glitch, a lens flare, a pareidolia-induced illusion?

Or, and this is what no one wants to say aloud, did they just breach into another layer of reality?

The figure didn’t climb out.

It didn’t walk away.

It simply ceased to exist the moment it was seen.

Was it watching them?

Was it always there?

Or had they awakened it?

As the mesa grows more reactive and the technology more unreliable, a horrifying thought creeps into the minds of even the most grounded scientists.

They are no longer drilling into the unknown.

The unknown is reaching back.

A portal momentarily opened.

The thought echoes in the minds of the entire team.

Heavy and electrifying.

That fleeting image, the figure near the void appearing and vanishing without a trace, isn’t just a visual anomaly.

It’s a moment that reframes everything.

And it underscores a theory that’s been gaining ground among researchers, skeptics, and believers alike.

The mesa at Skinwalker Ranch may not simply be an ancient geological formation.

It could be a multi-dimensional hub, an access point between realities.

Over the course of six intense seasons, a troubling yet compelling tapestry of evidence has emerged.

Strange time distortions, unexplained gravitational fluctuations, and electromagnetic bursts so severe they’ve shut down aircraft navigation systems.

GPS fails, compasses spin, drones fall from the sky without warning.

Instruments report impossible readings and then go dead.

Something about this place warps the very rules of physics.

And now the mesa, long suspected to hide a buried structure, may be more than just a vault.

It could be a gate.

Dr. Travis Taylor, who entered the investigation as a hard-nosed astrophysicist grounded in conventional science, now finds himself asking questions once relegated to science fiction.

What if the mesa harbors a fixed wormhole, a Stargate, something that connects this location to another dimension, another point in time, or even another intelligence?

It sounds speculative.

It is speculative, but here at Skinwalker Ranch, speculation is often the first step toward evidence because this land has a long memory, and it does not play by the rules.

For centuries, native stories warned of shape-shifters, of cursed lands, of beings who stepped through reality like walking through mist.

Later came the UAPs, the cattle mutilations, the strange lights that dipped into the earth and emerged in places miles apart in seconds.

Tales of missing time, phantom voices, and encounters with entities that defy categorization.

And now buried inside the very bones of the mesa lies a void.

A hollow chamber surrounded by metallic anomalies and potentially guarded by a barrier the drill and radar can’t pierce.

Is it a relic of a lost civilization hidden to outlast the rise and fall of empires?

Or something even more unsettling, an extraterrestrial installation, a watchtower designed to observe, experiment, or transport?

As the drilling continues and the strangeness intensifies, the tone of the team changes.

This is no longer a search for anomalies.

It’s a reckoning with the unknown.

Dr. Travis Taylor puts it best.

His voice grave, his expression caught between wonder and dread.
We’re not just dealing with weird data anymore.
We’re standing on the threshold of something big, something we may not be ready for.

Episode 6, Posting Up, doesn’t just advance the investigation.
It changes it.
It marks a turning point from probing mysteries beneath the ground to facing the possibility that the ground itself may not be of this Earth.

What unfolds beneath the mesa is no longer just the domain of peculiar data points or geological oddities.
It now teeters on the edge of a far more profound and unsettling revelation.
The presence of an intelligence hidden, ancient, perhaps artificial or even alien.
The signs are everywhere.

First, the water, hundreds of gallons, vanishes without a trace, absorbed not by porous rock, but seemingly into nothingness.
Then come the metallic structures discovered deep within what should be solid sandstone, symmetrical, reflective, positioned, designed,
and then the moment that changes everything.
The brief flickering appearance of a humanoid figure near the void, seen only for a second.
And then gone.
No one on the team can explain it.

No one wants to call it what it might be.
But the evidence no longer whispers.
It calls out, daring someone to name it.

Whatever hides inside the mesa is not just a puzzle of physics or geology.
It is a message from something beyond, wrapped in mystery and sealed in stone.

And that’s exactly what keeps viewers and investigators coming back to the secret of Skinwalker Ranch.
Not just for answers, but for that exhilarating feeling that somewhere, just beyond the edges of understanding, lies a truth too extraordinary to ignore.

What if the mesa is not simply a mountain of stone and sediment?
What if it is a shell, a geological cocoon enveloping a structure or technology not of this world or perhaps even not of this timeline?
The disappearing water, the spatial disorientation of drones, the electromagnetic anomalies.
These aren’t just quirks of terrain.
They’re signposts pointing towards something deliberately concealed.

And now the theories begin to stretch the boundaries of science itself.
Across the realm of speculative physics, a possibility has emerged, one that whispers of localized distortions in spacetime, hidden zones where gravity curves unnaturally, light bends away from view, and the rules of our universe become negotiable.

Are these distortions natural, born of some ancient cosmic fracture?
Or were they engineered, crafted by a civilization far more advanced than our own?
The Mesa may be concealing just such a zone.

One particularly provocative theory gaining quiet momentum among researchers is the concept of a quantum cloaking field—not science fiction, but a hypothetical technology capable of doing the unthinkable, hiding structures in plain sight by manipulating light, gravity, and even time itself.

Such a field could mask an object’s presence, not only from view, but from detection entirely, scattering signals, confusing instruments, and bending reality around it like a stone dropped into the surface of a calm pond.

What if the mesa isn’t merely guarding something?
What if it is the cloak?

And now that humans have begun to dig too deep to pierce the shell, the cloak may be starting to respond.
The question that remains is no longer just what is buried inside the mesa, but why has it stayed hidden for so long?
And perhaps more urgently, what happens now that it’s waking up?

This growing theory of a hidden cloak technology buried within the mesa may finally explain the erratic behavior of so many instruments at Skinwalker Ranch.

Radar scans bend and vanish.
Sonar echoes collapse into noise.
GPS coordinates fluctuate as if time itself is uncertain.
None of it follows the laws of classical physics.

And maybe that’s the point.
If the object buried within the mesa is indeed shielded by a quantum cloaking field, an energy shell that distorts space, light, and signal, then it’s not just invisible.
It may be untouchable.

Drills might skip off it.
Radar waves might scatter.
And even the laws of time and matter might twist around it like wind around a stone.

And this brings us to the most unsettling possibility yet.
What if the mesa doesn’t merely contain an object?
What if it hosts a portal, a fixed wormhole, or worse, a naturally occurring rift in spacetime?
Not just a gateway to distant points in the cosmos, but to entirely different eras.

The mysterious figure glimpsed near the void, seen only for a second and then gone, may not have been a person from our world at all.
Perhaps not even from our timeline.
Was it a time traveler, a projection, a temporal echo caught in a moment of overlap between realities?

Skinwalker Ranch has long been whispered about as a temporal fault line.
A place where past, present, and future collapse into each other unpredictably.
A hot spot where time doesn’t just pass, it frays.

Even ancient Ute and Navajo legends speak of sacred places in the land where the veil is thin.
Where travelers may walk between worlds, stepping out of their time and into another like passing through mist.
Are those stories metaphors or eyewitness accounts in mythic language?

And then there’s the metal.
Over the years, during deep drilling operations, the team has unearthed strange metallic fragments.

Some of them possess characteristics that defy explanation, highly reflective alloys that resist corrosion, isotopic signatures inconsistent with naturally occurring earthbound elements, and heat resistance that suggests exposure to extreme, perhaps even atmospheric re-entry conditions.

Are these pieces of a crashed extraterrestrial craft buried and forgotten beneath the shifting Earth?
Or do they belong to something far older, an ancient vault, a machine, or construct so advanced it appears indistinguishable from magic?

And if such a structure exists, how long has it been there?
Did it fall from the stars, or did it rise from a civilization that predates recorded history?

These aren’t just questions for engineers anymore.
They’re existential riddles, forcing the team and the viewers to reconsider the very nature of time, reality, and human significance.

Because if Skinwalker Ranch is more than just a place, if it’s a convergence point, a cosmic junction, or a dimensional fracture, then we are not just investigating it.
We are being drawn into it.

And the deeper they dig, the clearer one terrifying truth becomes.
This mystery may not want to be solved.
It may want to be experienced.

Back at the command center, the room hangs in a strange silence.
Not one of confusion, but of awe, fear, and realization.
They’re not just running experiments anymore.
They’re trespassing on the edge of something vast, something intelligent.

Travis Taylor stands near the screen, arms crossed, staring at the borehole data like it’s an alien script he almost understands.
Around him, the team isn’t celebrating, they’re contemplating.

What happens if we push further?
What if this isn’t a place we were meant to enter?
Or worse?
Or what if someone is waiting for us to open it?

The emotional toll is beginning to show.

For weeks, months even, they faced unknown radiation bursts, drone failures, GPS anomalies, and equipment going haywire.
But this moment feels like a crossing of a threshold.

Thomas Winterton, the ranch superintendent, voices what many are thinking.
“We always assumed we were investigating something hidden. Now I think it’s investigating us.”

And yet they don’t stop.
Driven by a combination of scientific hunger, curiosity, and something deeper, maybe even a sense of fate, the team prepares for their next bold move.

If the mesa truly contains a structure or device that distorts space and time, they need to triangulate the field.
Not just dig or scan, but understand how it affects the surrounding environment, the air, the earth, the very fabric of time itself.

They deploy a suite of cutting-edge instruments, each selected with precision.
Muon detectors designed to sense subatomic particles that can pass through thousands of feet of rock, a way to peer into the void without penetrating it.
Magnetometers placed around the mesa to detect strange magnetic fluxes or electromagnetic pulses.
Synchronized atomic clocks stationed at different locations across the ranch to test for temporal anomalies, discrepancies in time passage that could suggest gravitational warping or time dilation.

Each device tells part of a larger story.
Each reading is a whisper from the unknown.

And then there’s the human element.
The crew becomes part of the experiment, too.
Psychological monitoring is increased.
Sleep patterns, emotional swings, even dreams are recorded.

Why?
Because more than once, team members have reported visions, auditory hallucinations, and vivid nightmares that seemed tied to their time near the mesa.

Are they stress reactions, or are their minds being subtly influenced by proximity to whatever lies below?

As Travis and Eric Bard pour over the readings late one night, a sudden ping flashes across the magnetometer array.
A spike, brief, focused, and terrifyingly precise, centered directly above the borehole.

“Something’s moving,” Eric says, his voice flat.

A camera is instantly redirected to the Mesa’s surface, and for a few seconds, the team watches, breath held, as a heat bloom appears on the thermal cam, like something just below the surface is shifting, waking.

But just as quickly as it came, it’s gone.
No movement, no signature.

But now, no doubt, the mesa isn’t just reacting to them.
It’s aware.

And somewhere deep inside that ancient shell of stone, behind the metal, the void, the cloaking field, something waits.

The question now is no longer if they will uncover it.
It’s what will happen when they do.

Whatever their origin, one truth becomes harder to ignore.
These objects, these fragments, this void, none of it fits into any known geological or archaeological framework.
Their very presence breaks the rules, bending reality into something unfamiliar, something uncanny.

And as speculation begins to turn darker, a deeply unsettling possibility rises from the shadows of scientific curiosity.

What if the mesa is not a vault, but a tomb?
Not a resting place for the dead, but a prison for something not meant to awaken.

The thought echoes with the dread of Lovecraftian horror.
A crypt carved into the bones of the earth, sealed not out of reverence, but out of fear.
A fear so primal it transcended language, civilization, and time, replaced only by silence and stone.

The void within the mesa, the water that vanishes without explanation.
The drill that meets no resistance yet cannot pass, may be more than a cavity.

It may be a sealed, pressurized environment held shut by forces unknown.
Cloaking fields, gravity anomalies, or perhaps spatial warps engineered to isolate it from our reality entirely.

Why?

The more they dig, the more the past seems to push back.
And with it come the whispers, the rumors, the patterns.

Investigators speak in hushed tones of missing data from early explorations that vanished without a trace,
surveillance footage wiped clean as if by an unseen hand,
and of government agents rumored to have visited the ranch undercover of darkness.

Even more chilling are the stories of people who came too close to uncovering the truth and didn’t live long to talk about it.
A string of deaths officially unexplained, always hanging at the edges of the ranch’s dark mythology.

Is this superstition, paranoia, or has something been guarding the mesa from discovery all along?

As if answering the question, another mystery emerges.

High-frequency signals frequently detected near the drilling site, especially when physical contact with the void is attempted.
One signal stands out with eerie precision, 1.22 GHz, a frequency that uncannily mirrors the team’s own transmission systems as if being mimicked.

Eric Bard furrows his brow as he analyzes the data.
“These signals aren’t noise,” he says quietly.
“They’re responding. Could it be a machine?”
Long dormant, now reawakening.

Is it a distress signal, a defense mechanism, or even more bizarre, a data transmission bridging the gap between dimensions?

Something is broadcasting.
Something is aware of them, and it may not be welcoming.

Some researchers begin to speculate that these emissions could do more than communicate.
They may directly interact with the human brain, potentially explaining the waves of disorientation, hallucinations, and psychological episodes experienced by numerous witnesses over the years.

Could these signals be subtle weapons or psychic interference?
Or perhaps they’re the byproduct of a consciousness not entirely in phase with our own?

And then there are the UAPs.
They don’t appear randomly.
They arrive in sync with the anomalies when water disappears.
When the magnetic fields spike, when the signal surges, spherical lights, glowing orbs, fast-moving objects that defy physics.

They are silent, aware, watching, always just out of reach, as if observing.

Are they guardians, probes, remnants of the intelligence buried within the mesa?
Or are they something more perplexing?
Echoes of ourselves.
Future observers watching this pivotal moment unfold, witnessing humanity approach the threshold of a long-buried truth.

Whatever they are, one thing becomes clear.
The team has opened something or come dangerously close to doing so, and something is listening.

The recurring sightings, silver orbs darting silently through the sky, purple lights hovering just out of reach, glowing triangles suspended like watchful sentinels, begin to take on a new chilling significance.

What if these are not just unidentified aerial phenomena?
What if they are scouting drones, automated sentinels, or travelers, not from another star system, but from another reality passing through a gateway hidden beneath the mesa?

If the object buried inside that ancient rock is a space gate, then it may be more than a relic.
It may still be operational, a remnant of a network used for interstellar, interdimensional, or even intertemporal travel.

Perhaps it stirs only under certain conditions, magnetic fields aligned just right, signals activated, human consciousness nearby.
Perhaps each sighting is not an intrusion into our world, but an emergence from theirs.

And this single idea reframes the entire investigation.
Skinwalker Ranch is not the anomaly.
It is the node, a station, a junction point built at the intersection of space, time, and unseen universes.

The team begins to look at the land differently, not as a location where strange things happen, but as a place where worlds touch and sometimes bleed into each other.

What once seemed disconnected—the orbs, the electromagnetic pulses, the time slips, the phantom figures—now begin to feel cohesive, like ripples from the same stone dropped into a multi-dimensional pool.

The deeper the investigation goes, the more the fear creeps in, not because of monsters or ghosts, but because of the growing awareness that this is bigger than they imagined.

The mesa isn’t just holding a secret.
It is the secret.

Yet alongside the fear, something else burns even brighter.
Resolve.

Dr. Travis Taylor, once a strict empiricist, now stands at the frontier of human understanding.

He and his colleagues, Eric Bard, Thomas Winterton, and the rest are no longer just scientists, engineers, or analysts.
They have become pioneers, explorers on the threshold of a revelation that could rewrite everything humanity believes about history, physics, and reality itself.

Their work is no longer about answers.
It’s about transformation.

And as the next phase of the dig approaches, as equipment is prepared, risk assessments rewritten, and surveillance intensified, one realization crystallizes among the team.

The answers buried within the mesa may not be strange.
They may be impossible because perhaps what lies beneath isn’t a what at all.
Perhaps it’s a who.

And that presence hidden, waiting, cloaked beneath the skin of the earth may be watching, maybe listening, maybe waiting to return.

And well, we will return as well.