I looked again and the eyes are still there.
I felt a frisson of fear run down my spine. The smell of damp earth and decaying vegetation was powerful in my nostrils. No identifying animal scent came to me. The forest was devoid of the insect sounds that were usual for early evening. No roosting bird noises or calling animals. A predator.
Now, I grew up in a back water that had more wildlife than people, and the main fact I learned was; if you ignore it, it will most likely ignore you and go away. Working on this fact.
I tossed the trash bag in the bin provided for the purpose and promptly turned around to walk back to my truck. The skin between my shoulders begin to crawl, and as I reached for the handle to the door I couldn’t help turning back to look.
They were still there.
Just as I thought to myself they must be a reflection of a glass or something lodged in a tree, they blinked – moved the crack and snap of branches loud in the quiet of the forest and settled back down. I flung open the door, jumped in, slammed it and locked it. I reached for the curtains and closed them. It took me a minute to work up my courage, but lion-hearted chicken that I am I did.
1 of the eyes winked at me.
I got the distinct impression I was being laughed at, and then they were gone.
I felt a little indignant. What right does a creepy pair of eyes have to find amusement in giving me the bejeebers? I sat there for a while wondering if I was creeped out enough to leave, but 5000 miles and 3 days with very little sleep voted NO.
This decided I crawled up in my bunk ( with all the lights on) got comfortable and went to sleep. That I did not drive out of that picnic area screaming, is not a testament to my courage. So much as an example of my exhaustion and the strange bent my life had taken. Strange sights and sounds where is becoming normal for me. Besides at that point in time I was still under the impression that if I could ignore it I could stay sane.