Look, I’ve been walking these fields my whole life. I know what’s normal.
This morning I found a pair of human footprints — bare feet — starting in the center of my alfalfa patch.
Not from the road.
Not from the treeline.
Just… starting.
Perfectly clean prints, then ten yards later they’re gone again, like someone was picked up by a crane.
Soil undisturbed between them. No drag marks.
I don’t like this.