“I have a message for you.”—Major Briggs
Years ago, I started documenting owl visits to my garden at night, or on rare occasions in the day. I learned the various calls of the owls so I could discern between the two that were frequenting my garden at night, the Great Horned owl and the Barred owl. When I purchased a digital recorder, I begun recording them. I’m not sure how many recorded sessions I have of owls, but I’d say close to 50. Equal to the number of recorded sessions are experiences with owls. I have some very weird owl stories.
The owl can be a very feared bird in some cultures, primarily native American Indian. I don’t fear it.
Many believe the owls can be associated with witchcraft.
They believe the owl can be a messenger, a messenger of death.
Well, that kind of fits what we have going on right now, doesn’t it? It also fits the name of my Substack as well as the name of my garden—GHOST GARDENS. Is there a connection? Is there a connection with the deadly vaccine? Is there a message for me, for you? What’s the message—a whole lot of death is coming? It’s here.
I am a person who is highly interested in “things hidden,” which is the definition of the word occult, but I’m not interested in your hidden secrets. I’m interested in THEIRS. Their destructive secrets and I’m willing to partner up with the owl to obtain those secrets and expose them.
A BARRED OWL MESSAGE
It was a beautiful night, May of 2015, and I just returned home from having dinner with a friend. My wife suggested a night cap out on the deck. Great idea. We were standing facing the garden when something very large was flying towards us. It flew right past us and crashed into our house just above the family room window. It began falling to the ground and flapping its wings to gain lift. It succeeds and as it lifted it was heading straight towards me—a giant barred owl.
I ducked and it flew right over the top of me. Owls have excellent vision at night. They don’t crash into buildings. What’s the message? Something big is coming.
On July 15, 2015 I awoke feeling exceptionally alive. It was my day off and the sun was already shining. I decided to put on my running shoes and go for a jog. My goal was to do at least three miles. I drove down to the school track because I wanted it to be flat and I wanted to track the miles. Hey, if after three it feels good, fuck it, keep going.
The first mile went fast, the second faster, the third fourth and fifth mile even faster something very strange was going on. I finished on an incredible endorphin high. I returned home and went straight for a beer. Even though it’s only 8am that was an incredible run and definitely beer worthy.
I’m in my garden sipping my glorious beer when my wife comes out in her robe. I immediately go into the run explaining how fast I ran, maybe I ran sub six-minute miles 5:59 maybe sub 5’s I don’t know.
“Beer at 8am Mike—nice? It looks like you had one hell of a party last night after I went to bed.” Confused I ask, “What are you talking about? I went to bed right after you.”
“Oh really. Have you gone downstairs?”
“No, I went out the front door this morning.”
“Come look at this.”
The entire family room was ripped all to hell. All of the cushions were thrown off the two love seats, end tables knocked over, peanuts were scattered everywhere, and glass once filled with a bloody Mary cocktail spilled on the carpet and wall. “HOLY FUCKING SHIT,” I shouted.
I wandered around the mess trying to figure out how this occurred and suddenly things started coming to me. I could see myself last night tearing the place apart looking for something. “My phone. Find my fucking phone,” I said. I began to frantically look for it in the mess.
“Why?” my wife asked.
“I took a picture of it.”
“Of what?”
“Of it.”
We eventually find my phone. I open to pictures and there it is. I hand the phone to my wife.
“Mike, what in the hell is that?”
“That is it. That’s why the room looks the way it does.”
My wife spent the entire day staring at it. I told her that is why the owl flew into the wall back in May. That was the message to me or us. If the wall wasn’t there the owl would have flown straight into the family room. That owl is a very detailed message deliverer.
THE OWLS AREN’T WHAT THEY SEEM
The show Twin Peaks was practically filmed in my backyard. I never watched the show. I hardly ever watched TV and haven’t had a TV since 2017, but in episode 9 the famous phrase was born-/M576/THE/OWLS/ARE/NOT/WHAT/THEY/SEEM/.
“I have a message for you.”
Then what are they?
There’s a belief amongst some that owls are associated with aliens, or are aliens. This fits my own experiences. Author Mike Clelland wrote a book titled THE MESSENGERS.
I read it and emailed Mike. I told him about my owl stories, my owl coincidences. Mike emailed me back and said after reading my email he feels like he wrote the book just for me. I loaned the book to a friend and never got it back.
In Mike’s book he talks about people who see large owls four feet tall. I’m still waiting for that experience. There’s a belief that these are aliens beaming in some kind of screen image into the onlookers mind so that they don’t see an alien but rather an owl. If true we learn something about aliens.
One year before the Covid 19 scamdemic, I published a little write up on my owl visits. The owls visited 12 times in 2018 and 13 times in 2019.
On some of the recorded sessions voices came through. On one session a voice came through that said, “You are a friend to us.”
In 2020 I was very preccupied with the plandemic, but I did document three visits. In 2021, again very preoccupied with the mass genocide against humanity. I recorded the owls 8 times. In 2022 as the vaccine deaths pile up the owls have visited at least 30 times and I bet that number is way off. The message is death is coming—death is here. Fix it.
Owls should be respected. My parents raised some orphaned barn owl hatchlings when I was a child in our garage. They were quiet, grew up, then flew away. They were survivors.
That’s great. I’d say there’s a message coming your way. Buy Mikes book. You will find it fascinating.