Spirited Landscapes

Over the years I’ve spent time in a lot of different landscapes, either at work or at play (hiking, camping, photography, etc.), often by myself. Some of those landscapes have seemed to have a vibe, or an energy. Most of the time, in my experience, the vibe is one of beneficence, but there have been a couple places, one in particular, where it was more a vibe of maleficence. I’ve been wondering if folks have had similar experiences.

An example of a place with a welcoming or beneficent energy was when in my teens I would often hike alone in the coast range of California on private property. When I would stop to open the gate to access the property I’d look up at the hills where I’d be going and it was like I was being welcomed, or beckoned in a friendly sense. Another current location that always seems to have a peaceful energy is Blue Lake, in the Warner Mtns.

But what are to me the more interesting examples are the landscapes with what seems to be a maleficent energy. My primary example is when I was working in Washington. I was putting out baited trackplates as part of a mammal survey, involving packing in the trackplates, the plywood cubbies they went into, and bait, and then returning once a week to rebait, for a month. On the very first trip into this one location I found myself feeling like I was being watched, and judged, by a presence that was not at all friendly. I would try to be as quiet as I could, and I definitely did not want to harm anything. Mosquitoes would land on my arms and I would just nudge them off instead of slapping them, if a spider web was across my path through the trees I’d walk around it instead of through it. It was creepy. And, I had to return four more times, once per week, and each time it was the same, like there was a presence there, and i was being watched and judged. I guess I passed… : ) but ever since I’ve wondered why that energy or presence seemed to pervade that location, or why I perceived the energy or presence, was it just the configuration of the landscape, the dense forest, or what?

I was wondering if others have had similar experiences with landscapes, either the beneficent or the maleficent. Especially the latter, which I’m still intrigued by. I can see where repeated enjoyable experiences in the same landscape would lend a friendly, peaceful energy to the area, but why would an area seem to have a hostile energy, especially on the first experience there? I’d very much like to hear of your experiences.

Is it possible that you were being stalked by a mountain lion?

I don’t think so, since i had the same feeling each time i had to go back. I can’t remember how far apart the trackplate stations were, but it was a pretty good hike to rebait them all.

Can there be human history there ? A story someone local remembers ? Or even longer ago, lost in the mists of time.

Well I don’t think it’s an uncommon experience if that’s any reassurance… and did you know the word ‘panic’ comes from the god Pan, the god of woods and fields :)

I don’t think I’ve got an outdoor example myself but here’s a discussion which features a few https://forums.forteana.org/index.php?threads/panic-a-genuine-example-in-the-old-sense-of-the-word.26643/

Some places are “obviously spooky” (in that you could put it down to dingy or oppressive physical features) but I don’t think it’s always that [edit - that’s inspiring the sensations]. I kind of think we have evolved to avoid being eaten so I’m inclined to listen to those gut feelings!

I noticed that too, but it’s also very personal, you need some sensitivity to appreciate those nuances, except maybe for really desolate places, or on the other hand those buzzing with life in a sunny springtime afternoon, where most people will agree about the local ‘spirit’!

You will find that some people just don’t appreciate outdoors and nature, they are like ‘yes, that view is stunning… but when do we get back to the car?’ while you feel adventurous, and would like to explore further!

Also weather, lighting, time of the day, or your own personal condition, can make a huge difference, particularly on the sea or in the mountains, a paradise can turn into hell very quickly…

Interesting topic–thanks for posting it. I’ve had similar feelings about places/spaces. There are two places, I won’t say exactly where, in the Pennsylvania/Delaware region where I genuinely feel like they are great spaces, serene, beautiful, expansive, but not all the time. In one place, I noticed that sometimes it just feels “heavy,” less comforting, even watchful. The feeling was so strong one day that I mentioned it to a friend who is familiar with the area (she ran there for years in the mornings), saying that I couldn’t figure out what I was reacting to in those moments. And, she said, “No, I know what you mean. It’s like something old and powerful moves through there at times and reminds you that you don’t belong. You have to respect the space.”

In the other, most of the place feels like coming home, but there are places on specific trails where I just move a little more quickly through because I’m uncomfortable and look over my shoulder a little more. I should say that I react to atmospheres fairly easily both inside and out–and I suspect I might just be picking up on details that I don’t consciously notice but which affect my feel for the space, if that makes sense. But, it can’t hurt to afford the places more respect and be more watchful at any rate–doesn’t hurt to trust your instincts in those moments when/if they happen, right?

And, I was just reading some folklore about the Appalachian Mountains, and the people from those regions have a lot of tales and rules about living in those mountains. So, folk history suggests we’re not alone. I will add that I grew up in the Appalachian Plateau region of Pennsylvania where there are fewer stories, but you do hear some.

I think people who spend a great deal of time out in nature are often very aware of the overall environment, including the ‘sense’ of a place. Like all animals, our senses can be keyed into what is going on around us to varying degrees depending on distractions, practice, etc.. I often have the feeling you are describing that some place is incredibly welcoming; or that it is not. When it’s not so welcoming, if I really focus I can (sometimes!) figure out what is ‘off’ about the place. Sometimes the birds and other animals are too loud or too quiet (though that leads to 'WHY?"), the wind is blowing in an unusual way, there is a strange smell, or I have the sense that I am being watched. When I have the ‘I’m being watched’ sense, I have (sometimes!) been able to eventually locate what is, in fact, watching me, whether it is a person, predator or something like a deer.

Many times I just can’t figure it out. The place just feels ‘off’ and wrong. When it feels ‘off’ and I just can’t figure it out, I generally respect that feeling, and leave to go somewhere else. I am going out to have a good time, after all, not to cause myself discomfort.

It has also happened to me in terms of certain places I may drive through. There is one area near me that has it’s own energy. I have sworn to friends that I would know I was going through the area, even if blindfolded. A few times I have been the passenger in the car, reading or??, so I am not looking out the window. Without looking up, I’ll ask if we are in/near _____, and invariably we are. Don’t know what it is, but the hairs on my neck just know.

I can recall a couple of occasions where I’ve been in a rural area with no other human nearby (to my knowledge) where I felt my neck hairs go up as I suddenly felt something was not quite right. I can’t say there was any threat present and afterwards passed it off as something about my own state of mind at the time. But who knows … when your “spider-sense” tingles, it might be a good idea to be extra-vigilant.

But I can’t say that any particular wild place (or even any human dwelling) ever felt malevolent to me.

I like reading the Forum topics and this one was intriguing to me. The topic of spirited landscapes is relevant as we think of the multitude of environments humans have and will interact with as naturalists. I liked the description and examples of landscapes that reflect (potential) beneficence or maleficence. I have to admit, on occasion, and in some landscapes, it is all ‘neutral’ for me in some situations where I am ‘thinking’ of the landscape with little affect, response, or reaction,
as I trek through forest habitat, shorelines, riparian zones, mountain trails, or my backyard. It is quite functional and operational. I enter, make some observations, and exit. I say that with some regret…

I do not think of spirited landscapes in the sense of the paranormal or being ‘haunted’…but, yes there have been times in my lifetime where I wonder about my subconscious and unconscious filters and how landscape preferences influence my perspectives on being a naturalist. But a few landscapes have been like psychological ‘tripwires’. A feeling. A reaction. A sense of something different, or ‘off’, some dissonance, or disorientation with the interaction. Are these a false positives? Something I have constructed in my brain? Why are some places like that? Is it the unknown or unseen threats that trigger a reaction of unease? Are these false positives? Something I have constructed in my brain?

I can remember when Jaws (the movie) was released and how that changed the landscape of being at the ocean and swimming at the beach (and probably it became worse for sharks); and then when I was a grad student going to guest lecture by (Prof.) Barrie Gilbert at Utah State University and the way he described how he was mauled by a Grizzly Bear…well that changed my ‘take-for-granted’ attitude about hiking Yellowstone N.P. And a ‘spirited landscape’ is also found in Dante’s Inferno where he begins the entire story (Divine Comedy) with finding himself in a dark forest and the path was lost…the use of that setting as a descriptor for a sense of foreboding.

But for the most part (and more frequent) most landscapes have a beneficial experience. I think of the concept of umwelt…and I am engaged with a psychological state that can be associated with awe, or similar to the psychology of flow while being in nature. There are other settings, locations, geographical points, a habitat, or a niche that practically exudes a sense of the uncanny, where things get eerie, perhaps even sublime while being in nature. Like a ‘lucky’ set of images where it all comes together: the landscape, the context, the plant, the animal, the light, the clouds, and it is all captured as an observation. And to then share that observation is rewarding on iNaturalist. Kairos is a term I think of for this side of psychological experience - right time and right place and right opportunity when I am in nature and set to be ready, attentive, observing, and learning. I suppose the term would be a sense of joy - even it is just a memory.

I would bet that a lot of it has to do with our threat response. When your subconscious notices some odd detail, it puts you into that threat mode. Using your Washington example, being in a new place is going to automatically make you more alert, especially when you’re alone. You don’t know the landscape, or what kind of predators might be around. You were in a situation that had greater potential danger than usual.

Back in Claifornia though, these were areas you had been to before. You were familiar with the landscape and had some idea of the dangers of the area, and were more prepared for them. It all sounds like perfectly normal survival instincts to me.

Interestingly, this same survival mechanism is where anxiety comes from, at least in part. The fight or flight instinct being over active and not relaxing properly, then your brain trying to figure out why you feel panicked and coming up with stuff that keeps the anxiety going.

I’d like to apologize in advance for going in a slightly different direction with this post. The original post is about feeling uncomfortable in certain settings. After reading some of the comments others made about this uneasy feeling, I felt somewhat compelled to share how I intentionally try to evoke these through photography.

Interesting question. I haven’t experienced it since I was much younger (40 to 50 years ago :tired_face:). However, I DO like to capitalize on that same unease.

There are a few prisons in Rawlins, Wyoming. One is the Old Frontier Prison, which was the first Wyoming State Penitentiary built after Wyoming became a state. It was in service from 1902 to 1981. It’s one of my favorite places to photograph.

The actual gas chamber at the Old Frontier Prison, after some Photoshop work.

Fall at the inmate graveyard at the Old Frontier Prison. There is a lot of symbolism in both the fall and winter graveyard photos.

Winter at the inmate graveyard at the Old Frontier Prison.

Below, the base image is a stock photo. I added the ground fog and what I like to call a ghostalope. The “ghostalope” was painted by inmates and is on display at the Old Frontier Prison. Through the magic of Photoshop, I moved it to this scene. (Base image by Simon Berger (2017), used under Unsplash License, unsplash.com)

Unese creeps its way into my toy photography too, though sometimes much more overtly.

Finally, some of my toy photography is colorful and fun, but there’s usually a dark twist.

I appreciate you letting me address this subject from a different perspective. If you feel it is inappropriate here, please let me know.

Many thanks to all who posted comments. The ducks and the cheese grater made me smile.

@DianaStuder I don’t have any knowledge about the history of the area where i felt the presence. If anyone is interested or knows the area, it was in the Bake Oven area along the South Fork of the Tieton River, outside of Naches, WA.

@mikeschinlaub Well, my mind certainly knows how to create anxiety for me, like when i leave the house for the weekend and it waits til i’m an hour down the road before asking, “Did you turn off the water?”, and, “Well, how about the coffee pot?” I really don’t think the newness of the landscape was a factor. I’ve worked in the field in NV, WA and CA, and all those landscapes i worked in were new to me when i started, so that wouldn’t be consistent. But that feeling of maleficence could well be do to some aspects of the landscape that subconsciously make us feel vulnerable or at risk, part of that ‘ecology of fear’. Although that doesn’t seem to quite answer either, and wouldn’t seem to explain what seems to be similar experiences of other commenters, like @jenpittam and @octobertraveler.

I do think there is something about energy in the landscape. As a different example, i’m sure some of you have hiked thru higher elevation areas in the late fall, and have experienced the profound quiet and stillness of those areas at that time? Lately i’ve wondered if that profound silence is more than just the general lack of sound, if it is also the lack of living energy. In late fall the trees and plants have shut down for winter, insect life is largely absent, most birds have migrated, and mammals have gone to lower elevations or gone under into hibernation, so that while the sound and activity of those organisms is largely absent, there is also very little of life’s energy remaining, to where we possibly can become more conscious of our own life’s energy because it seems to represent the main source of living energy out there. And that thought has made me wonder if we subconsciously tune into the ‘hum’ of life’s energy, into all the heard and unheard energy sources, the seen and unseen, such that when that energy is no longer present we perceive the absence as part of the profound quiet surrounding us. (And i can’t help but to think of Cormac McCarthy’s The Road, where he writes of a lifeless, darkened earth spinning silently through the silent blackness of deep space.)

@octobertraveler i found it interesting that your jogger friend had similar feelings as you had in that same location. And, @jenpittam that there was the area with its own energy that you could feel driving thru it, even as a passenger not paying attention to where you were. It’d be interesting to somehow know how many others have similar perceptions or feelings of those areas.

I know the feeling. I sometimes get the sense of energy from places but it is always from urban areas or ruins.
I can see danger while walking in nature, crumbling rocks, soft mud, slippery surfaces or trees about to fall. These do not feel as a threat or attack directed at me.

Don’t know the history too well, but my mom’s from the area and I spent a lot of summers in Tieton, Naches, Cowiche, and environs when I was younger and visiting family. Amazing to see it posted here.

I’ll just preface my comments by saying that although I strong adherent to the scientific method, I also recognize that there are vast tracts of the universe - places, things, and forces - that we know very little about, so I try to keep an open mind to the fact that there are many things we cannot adequately explain.

A news story recently made the rounds, reporting that researchers had found that old buildings that “feel haunted”, tended to have low-frequency “infrasounds” that our subconscious may be picking up on.

https://www.cbc.ca/radio/quirks/infrasound-paranormal-9.7209127

"In a recent study, researchers found that volunteers unknowingly exposed to infrasound — low-frequency sound waves — were more irritable and showed increases in the stress hormone cortisol. The findings were published in Frontiers in Behavioral Neuroscience. "

I wonder if something like this might be at play in open spaces as well - subterranean or geological sounds triggering a sense of unease?

Interesting, thanks for posting, that could possibly explain some areas on the landscape that seem to be ‘off’ or that seem to have a different energy. Here’s another article - https://news.cnrs.fr/articles/infrasound-sound-waves-that-nothing-can-stop