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An Each-way Bet/Compromise: Yowies and a Rock

By Steven & Evan Strong


Making our best efforts at being honest whenever compiling a report is always our guiding principle, which means we have to begin this article with an admission to a change in proceedings. For this is the first time we have not presented one unifying theme or content. Due to devoting every available second to the publication of two books, one dealing with our conversations with an off-world extra-terrestrial by the name of Mezereth, and the other on the very recently recovered draft copy of Frederic Slater’s book, Scribes of the Stone Age, there has been an ever-increasing backlog in the waiting list. Knowing that the Slater’s manuscript is massive in volume and implications, and it will take no less than four more books to come close to reaching the conclusion, the only guarantee is that this list will increase. On every other occasion, whether an individual article or online conference, we have always had one overriding interlocking central theme. This time around due to a shortage in time we have no choice but to examine two Original areas of interest that share nothing beyond being mysteries that cannot be explained if relying on mainstream sources, experts or approved narratives.

Of one thing we can freely admit, at no stage did we ever entertain the notion of discussing Yowies. Granted we have briefly mentioned that Yowies, according to every Original Old Way Elders and Culture Custodians, are gigantic hairy beings that do exist. But that has been the sum total of how far we were prepared to go. This topic is a 100% academic ‘no-go zone,” with copious amounts of scorn, derision and sarcasm freely given to any who are willing to even mention them being present or real.

Fools Rush in Where ………..

Our standard operating procedure when investigating anything on tribal estates, is to wait for an invitation by an Elder with the appropriate Old Way knowledge and has the right to share some of the secrets. That automatically means that we could only speak about or research anything related to Yowies if they make the first step in approaching us. And that they have done, plus quite a few steps beyond their opening gambit, and if anything, their pace seems to be quickening.

This invitation and intentional contact with Yowies is undeniably real and guaranteed to be ridiculed by our many critics. In many respects it would be safer to look elsewhere, but if doing so, it breaks a hard and fast rule we promise to remain loyal to whenever we respond to Elder’s invitations. We are bound to tell their story and ancient truths irrespective of where this leads or the inconvenience it creates. If we picked and chose thereby avoiding the potholes my Elders, particularly Karno, would not be pleased, and that just can’t happen. The best way to explain why we are utterly convinced they exist and have been in our ‘backyard’ is to present a chronological account beginning in 1997 down by the creek on the edge of our property.

Down by the Creek, up the Slope and Knocking on the Back Wall

This contact is something we knew nothing about until after the most recent set of episodes, and was sent to us by a friend. This was posted on a Yowie web site by people we have never met, so clearly it cannot be verified by us, but when placed in context with all that followed since, it is part of a consistent presence.

Near the site of the 1997 sighting – Photo by Ben Wright

In 1997 two people were fishing on the creek about 400 metres from our house. There is a stretch of about half a kilometre of water which is perhaps fourty meters across and from one to two metres deep that forms a billabong and has at least four platypus families and plenty of fish. They knew there were fish there and their intention was to catch some, but that never happened.

It all began with a rustling in the rainforest, and soon after they saw a being that was definitely not a human being. Their description was of a bipedal very hairy non-person standing between six-foot-six to seven-foot-six and what was very intriguing was that they are adamant it has diamond shaped eyes. And in what was a pre-cursor to our contact they made note of an all-encompassing sense of fear that overwhelmed them.

However, one equivocation was added in that as powerful this understandable reaction was it was accompanied by panic or the need to flee in fear of their life. They sat and watched until it made its way up the slope. In concluding this eye-witness account they added a comment and reply to what someone asked later in relation to if they had a gun would they use it in self-defense. Absolutely not! They felt that sensational was induced by the Yowie for protection only, that there was no malice or deadly intentions. They felt it was just a way of saying keep your distance and all will be fine.


Three years later and three hundred metres up the slope, my wife, two sons and myself heard a sort of semi-screaming grunt about thirty metres from the house. On three sides of our property is the last sizeable remnant of tropical rainforest, and there at very edge was a noise coming out of the trees that defies comparison. We have lived here for over twenty-five years and never heard anything as loud or more perplexing. The inescapable impact of the sheer volume in delivery that just could not be ignored. My immediate reaction once really focusing on what this all meant was that this thing was huge. For a human to match what came out the mouth at the edge of the rainforest, they would need a microphone and Marshall Amplifier.

As what was going here, all we knew right now was the whoever was there, they had not from one place while we stood about thirty metres away. He or she kept screaming, and although not having a watch or electronic timer, it seemed so much like each scream/grunt was close to the same in timing in both length of delivery and time until the next installment.

While that is a distinct maybe, there was one almost instantaneous reaction to the first time I stopped and really started to listen to what it was saying: an immediate wave of fear, it was impossible to ignore or remove as it soaked every fibre, but amongst chaos it was delivered with care, because instead of backing off knowing that whatever this was it was greater in weight there was a reluctant menace in tone. Granted I did have tennis racquet in my hand, but the reality is if push comes to shove is that both my racquet and bones would be broken and opponent unscathed.

As time passed as did the possibility that anything from our original genetic stock onwards could be that big and loud and kept on broadcasting far and wide. It dawned on me as I stood and listened, and was confirmed very recently in a more recent encounter, it was the space and silence behind each chorus that gap seemed to be the same each time. I never wear a watch or carry a mobile and had no timing device, but regardless I came to almost predict to the second when this being would repeat again. The no longer this went on I began to notice slight variations in that growl/scream. The silence seemed so deliberate and carefully contrived, no bird has sequences of song with such precise timing.

Then it dawned on me, not only was whatever was out there so able to pulverise and kill without consequence or injury to themselves in doing so, but that could also include my family of two sons and a wife. My estimation if this spirit in super human flesh and bone screaming in the bush is real, and clearly has a no less than equal level of intelligence and perhaps even many other supernatural extensions. This magical mystical tour runs in many directions but there is one talent that we see as the most intriguing and have actually seen a human do this, the oft-reported ability of Yowies to actually disappear at will, that resonates many times in our situation.

We are convinced this is but one case, they are also more superior in every faculty to us. That is why humans have never captured or dissected one Yowie, and with so many others of the Yowie genre spread throughout the planet, all up this is a solitary score zero. The only logical explanation as to if Yowies are here, is that they are too smart to catch and we are too dumb to ever outwit these giants, too feeble to fight and insignificant to be able to catch them. They are still here now, every Elder we know says the same. In Old Way Ceremonies and talk of sacred business if an Original Old Way Culture Keeper ever said that Yowies aren’t here (that would not be said) and never were, that person would be ignore, called a liar and shunned, never to be listened to again. The insult is too offensive, they are calling the Original Dreaming stories and history fictional and lies.

Ten Minutes, Then Nothing

It was about ten minutes from hearing the first blast from the bush until the cessation of screams. It just stopped, there was no noise down by first line of trees, no footsteps or cracking of twigs, but most of all it was real quiet. As to where the this being now was, it could be gone or still there, I knew not and had absolutely no intention to know more beyond turning around and walking back to the house.

Past that it is a blank, to this day, I cannot remember any action or comments made that day. I checked with my wife and son, and they had the same non-recall. Our consensus take is that no-one remembers offering one word clearly or succinctly about what type of being was responsible. Thinking back, I am quite stunned none of us remember making any further comment or question. The only thing we can agree on is that nothing was said the next day, or any day after.

Whether overwhelmed by a collective apathy, or perhaps just like the almost instantaneous sensation of fear, our unwillingness to ponder or reflect upon cessation was induced by whatever was standing and yelling in the bush. Clearly there will never be an explanation as to why, but over the next twenty years not a word was passed over what actually happened, nor who was responsible.

Over Twenty Years Later, Then Everything

It all began again, along with so many other forms of attendance and communication, a few months ago at time just past eleven o’clock in the night. There was no moon above and we are surrounded by rainforest on all four sides, so the visibility when looking ahead was not much past five metres. To begin with I put this sudden noisy disturbance down to a malfunction of the TV set. I was watching some late-night sport, and first assumed to bizarre scream or yell came from the audience watching the rugby league match. But once turning off the TV and realising it was coming from outside the house and quite close by, it seemed the only option available was to leave the house.

I went outside but did so somewhat tentatively, and after the first scream it went ‘downhill.’ I had heard that same screaming accompanied by a sort of grunt from a bit over two decades ago and was no more than thirty meters from the last vocal amplification. So too did the other part of the earlier delivery return. That same sense of fear floating in the air was back, and in that repeat performance of artificial fear I felt no compulsion to run or even arm myself with a tennis racquet. Just like before, I stood there and so too did the being no more than twenty metres away maintain the volume and same spacing between each scream/grunt.

It continued for about five minutes, regular in the spacing and consistent in volume, whatever this being was, just as before, it remained in one spot. But for reasons that escape me now, I didn’t. I went inside but as I went back out, I closed the door with a little more force and that noise coincided with a scream cut short with nothing to follow. Now that silence was even more disconcerting than the noise as I could get a reasonable idea of where it was. With such poor night-time visibility and nothing else, I became more apprehensive and within a minute was back inside with the backdoor locked.

I assumed that this out-door performance was over and heard by me alone, and was wrong on both counts. Unknown to me Evan arrived home in his car at the same time. He also heard the strange noise, and just as I did, he tried to find a rational cause or effect. In Evan’s case his first choice was the engine, in particular the fan belt playing up, something he had to deal with before. Turning it off did nothing except cut out some of the background noise and allow the scream a freer reign. His next guess was the song on the radio may have had a very strange and exceptionally loud discordant chorus. Once the radio was silent that scream was now front and centre. Once standing by the car he could clearly hear and feel what was coming from the bush. That same wave of fear surrounded him, so much so that what was to be three or four trips to carry quite a few bags and items became a very rapid one-way overweight trip to his house.

Once inside he rang his friend Sarah, who he was talking to as he pulled in, she could also hear the sequence of screams and asked whether all the windows and doors were shut. What did resonate with both of them, was when they woke in the morning, they both felt unwell and their symptoms were identical.

This time, although twenty years later, we did talk about what happened and although never seen, but clearly heard, the name that kept being repeated was Yowie. It certainly was not a human, as no-one has that amplification, but as for being an actual Yowie, well I was certainly leaning in that direction, but needed more.

More of the Same

It was only two days later, and this time it was not the night but middle of the day when hearing the same type of scream/grunt. In saying that, the noise although quite similar was slightly higher pitched. And it certainly wasn’t a few metres away, but more like a few hundred metres down the slope, and I suspected very close to the creek.

Whether it was due to the much greater distance or simply intention I cannot say, but not only was it softer there was no accompanying sensation of fear. What was both interesting and until they reappeared somewhat disconcerting, was that Evan and a friend were in the forest also. Whether their presence in the forest, although never too close, was the reason I heard this call or warning, can never be absolutely determined, but it certainly is possible.

In an attempt to get a little closer to resolve who is responsible, I placed a large apple on a table, its size and weight along with being at the centre of an outdoor table would mean any possum, quoll or carpet snake on night-time patrol if hungry would have to dine at the table. For it to be a ‘take-away’ meal whoever was hungry that would have to be bi-pedal in motion needing two free hands or limbs. What was unnoticed at the time was below my feet on the ground was a large sweet potato weighing about two kilograms, but as one section was soft and mushy my wife felt it was inedible.

Clearly whoever was in the vicinity that night disagreed. All bar the soft section was gone, the teeth marks were very wide and well beyond the width of any human tooth. The sweet potato was eaten at the same location as it was placed, but the apple was gone. No core or even small piece of apple was visible, it was taken away and eaten somewhere else. It is quite likely after eating two kilograms of sweet potato the apple was for the next time it needed to eat.

I placed another apple of the same size on the same table the next night and the result was the same, it was gone. A few days later I placed another apple but not on the table but beside. It took three days for the possum to fully consume the apple, and throughout the apple barely changed positions. I did this to add clarity as to what the possum was capable, and climbing down the table legs with an apple in paw is one feat beyond the abilities of any possum, but would present no problems for a Yowie.

New Neighbours

My rational conditioning was fraying at the edges now, and the night after the second apple went on Yowie walkabout, this interaction was ramped up considerably and especially since the next contact was inside the house, when the doors were locked and windows closed. My wife was in bed asleep and at just after eleven o’clock when it laid down. All lights were off and living in the country in a rainforest only adds to the dark setting and depth of silence.

Barely a minute had passed when there in our bedroom barely a metre from where I lay, I heard a soft grunt. Not quite, but nearly the same timbre and sound with one clear difference in delivery. I was neither alarmed nor fearful. The normal response to an unknown voice being so close in the pitch black is to grab something solid with the heart pumping as you ready yourself for conflict with an intruder. Not here, there was no fear or panic, within a millisecond I knew it was the same being as the one I heard twice recently and most likely dined on sweet potato and apples. But what threw me was that it was inside a fully secured house, being outside wandering around is fine and easy to accommodate but moving in through a manner of entrance unknown was upping the stakes somewhat.

I rang Uncle Donny the next day, we knew he had a very keen interest and knowledge base with all things associated with Yowies. We spoke at some length and what he said filled in some gaps and opened others completely unknown. None more so than the fact there are two types of Yowies, Donny spoke of the giant beings we knew a little of that stand upright on two feet between six to fifteen feet, some of what he said we knew of to an extent, but other information was unexpected. None more so than the fact that one genera of Yowie have a permanent physical decidedly hairy body which they can disappear in, levitate and activate a host of paranormal talents, and the other is more an etheric entity that can take on a physical presence and voice, but that is rare as it normally contacts through the metaphysical realms. Whether in dreams, while meditating or just beginning to settle into my bed and pillows in my bedroom, this is how they communicate. Donny also told us that these mystical Yowies when they do adopt a physical body more resemble human faces and are inclined to be a touch more sympathetic towards humans than their full-time bodied Yowie brothers and sisters.

Stomping and Banging

It is hard to be precise as I should have kept a diary, but after each session I sort of assumed that was the sum total of their brief ‘conversation.’ To the best of my recollection as to when this happened, I think it was three days after our first one-way bedroom mono-syllabic conversation, but as for the time, that is always just after eleven o’clock. The whole event, from the time I walked out the back door until I returned locking it immediately then checking whether all other doors were also locked, lasted ten seconds at best. The reason my stay was so brief and entry and exit so rapid, is simply because all of this rustling and yelling was replaced by something of immense weight and incredible strength, and I had neither.

I wasn’t really focusing on whether any thing was in the dark as I opened to the back door but was soon on task and backing off. Barely a second after opening the door and about ten metres down the slope we have some thick stands of Lamandra that stand close to two metres high and it began with the rustling of the grass, then two footsteps. The ground is so soft, the red volcanic soil is so porous and giving when walked upon, you barely if ever make a noise. However, that wasn’t you or me in the grass ten metres away, and sound of each footstep was accompanied by an echo. So loud was each step the sound echoed off our back wooden wall. The weight needed to make such a loud footstep has to be many hundreds of kilograms, which makes my contribution in the lower sixties insignificant.

And then it got tricky, the two steps were second seconds in duration but there was nothing else, no creeping or movement of any type. Been down that cone of silence before and I did not stay long then. All I knew was that it was very dark, the last step was ten metres away and I chose to take the path of least resistance by leaving the scene and walking inside.

Mandarin Middens

This actually goes back close to two decades, ever since the first citrus trees on some of the nearby properties started fruiting, there are two places, both on the edge of the forest, where there have been many occasions when the skins of oranges and mandarins are clustered together. There have been times when comments were made that possums did it. Problem is when possums eat the fruit it is done at the tree, I have never seen a possum in transit bearing fruit.

One piece of fruit could be transported, but there can be up to a dozen remains in one spot, and both locations are more than one hundred metres from the trees. We did raise the issue of the most recent deposit of seven with Uncle Donny and he asked Evan chart their positions. He also suggested Evan go further down side of the road with the expectation of finding three more, which he did. Uncle Donny’s take on the two citrus peel arrangements of seven and three, is that the seven represent the Seven Sisters from the Pleiades and the lesser number, Orion.

Whether they represent star systems or were randomly discarded, what is clear is that the animal/being responsible needs to be bipedal, as there is no way any four-footed animal can carry the groceries one metre, let alone one hundred.

Twice Listening Then the Light is Turned on

It could be three, possibly four days since the loud unhappy feet, and the time spent outside during the next performance was just as brief as my earlier late-night cameo. Upon opening the door I did get three unimpeded steps in before about twenty metres to the right there was a huge crash of tree or branch through very heavy impact. A scream or stomp I was up for, but the sound of a tree cracking was loud enough, but where was the inevitable thumping into the earth? It was one huge smash, then nothing.

That thought of what should come next was rapidly overtaken by the realisation there was a good chance a huge bipedal being was holding a huge thick branch, and if it was swung whatever was in the path it took would fall down never to rise again. That was enough, once again it was very dark and the organism responsible could be very angry and used this tree to vent his/her frustration, and it stayed upright, but if the tree was me, I would fall down and never get up. A few seconds after first considering potential size and temperament I was back inside and checking the locks.

During the rest of the night and morning while trying to sleep, I kept returning to something Uncle Donny said when discussing how Yowies verbalise and communicate. He spoke of the hooting like an owl as a trademark form of Yowie vocabulary. There have been many days when we heard what we assumed to be owls, in fact, since we have lived here, is has been a constant. And all the while the hooting continued everyone thought it was an owl making this noise or call. Problem is owls are generally nocturnal and rarely call during the day. If food is scarce an exception to the rule is made as they have to hunt longer hours, but this is the last large stand of sub-tropical rainforest and is surrounded by intensive rural settlement, very close to the coast with an annual rainfall of between 2,000-4,000 mls. So, there is no need to make any noise during the day as food is not in scarcity, especially since the only two Australian owls known to spend a lot of daylight hours seeking food are the Northern Pygmy Owl and Northern Hawk Owl, and both reside thousands of kilometres to the north.

That morning and a fair portion of the afternoon was spent outside listening for and analysing this so-called owl hooting. To begin with I was first taken by the timing, the time between each hoot never varied, it didn’t matter from which location throughout the last sizeable stand of rainforest in the area, nor the quantity of hoots, the gap was always three seconds. Over the two days I heard almost one thousand hoots, and the longer it went the more attuned I became to the nuances and subtle additions. My first impression was so mistaken, there isn’t just one base-hoot, but no less than four. Both before and after each hoot smaller and somewhat softer suffixes and prefixes were added, my present count is six for both additions. What also resonated as the tally increased was that the First Language for humans has ten base words with twenty prefixes and twenty-one suffixes, and I am sure if I spent more time listening to these large beings conversing over a distance of four kilometres, the count would increase.

As for being an owl or any other bird, the three second gap makes that an impossibility. No bird maintains the same length in pausing forever. After two days listening, much less so on the second day, it became obvious no owl, or any bird would have the stamina, sequential timing or reason to communicate like this all day long.

After two days on sentry census, it didn’t finish there. After the first indoor conversion of a single grunt when laying in my bed, it kept up, but with variations, sometimes it was a male grunt, a soft clap, a book falling onto the floor, but the weirdest event so far has to be the exact sound a dripping tap makes. For me that was the clincher, as I laid and listened and the time between each drop was three seconds, I stopped trying to find a rational explanation and move on to more important matters. I had now got used to this, half expected something on most nights, but nothing prepared me for the next installment.

It began with the customary soft, calming grunt, but this time it was not a male in the room, but a female. Absolutely no doubt it was a woman, as usual I try to see a form or perhaps a light, but it is so dark and when opening closed eyes in a dark location it always takes time to adjust. What may be made no difference, I heard someone but saw no-one. As before, I acknowledged this was real and then attempted to do what was the routine, accept they are here and mean no harm and go to sleep.

That was the plan and for the next five seconds it was an easy path to rest upon. Then the lounge room light went on and shone down the hallway and into our bedroom. Normally when any house is locked, just on midnight and pitch-black inside, if a voice is heard then the most powerful light in the house is turned on, if going to investigate it would seem to make sense for me to grab my tennis racquet for protection. I didn’t need any form of defense; I knew this woman being/spirit/Yowie meant no harm. As to why I knew this, there is no answer beyond I never second-guess my intuition. The switch was turned on, and there was no person in the house, I did quickly check, and every room was empty, bar our bedroom. She did this for one reason, to clean out any lingering doubts that the beings responsible are indeed Yowies. And it is for that reason that from this point on in this report instead of referring to the Yowie as a being, bipedal entity, spirit or it, this is when I stopped doubting and knew who the new Yowie tenants are.

Three Metres to the Door and the Yowie

The next encounter found me well outside my self-imposed safety zone. My reckoning has been to make sure I am always at least half the distance from the door to that of the Yowie. That means if it is ten metres away banging on a tree with a branch, I must keep within five metres from my escape hatch. I know they are faster than humans, but not twice as fast, well …?

That was my plan whenever I went outside at eleven o’clock. But this strategy went out the window and door, because the loud drumming on the wooden planks that line the house was just around the corner about three metres from where I stood. Alas the door was no closer and the maths was grim, which put me in a vulnerable situation. I had two choices, keep walking three steps forward and meet the drummer at an up close and personal level, or turn as quietly as possible and skulk backwards towards the door.

I could either walk the extra three steps forward and hope that those humans who assured us the meeting would be amicable, or retreat to the house. I still regret opting to skulk rather than turn the corner, but you had to be there, in the dark, with my pulse quickening supplemented by a mass of questions and what ifs.

And so it Continues

Since then, they have not let up. There has been a stream of varying forms of bedtime contacts, last night I felt a soft pressure on my face and a nudge on my shoulder. It has got to the stage if I go two nights without some type of noise or activity making sure I know they are in attendance I would be surprised, and that hasn’t happened yet. And for any who suspect that this is either my imagination or that I am experiencing some sort of psychological disorder, it is not just me who senses their presence.

Original Elder Gundyarri recently visited us, and from the time she stepped out of the car she sensed their presence close by. She came for short talk, and whether standing by the car or sitting out the back she kept commenting on their nearby attendance.

Two nights ago, Lea, Evan and Sarah were seated outside the veranda of Evan’s house. There is no need to go into the lead up activities, but it was agreed that Lea needed to call Mezereth to assist. There is talk of a “white light” that appeared and not long after Mezereth told all three to get inside. Yowies despise any Alien, always have, and whenever Aliens do come to Earth in whatever transitional state, Yowies know they are on their planet, and they want them to leave.

Mezereth told the three of them to get inside immediately as the Yowie knew Lea had a strong connection and asked him to assist and was not happy. Sarah actually climbed up a wall of over a metre in height that separated our house from Evan’s, as the alternative route was much longer, far more exposed and very dark.

I have since asked Mezereth, via Lea, why this is happening and whether there will be a time in the near future when the Yowies will stop hiding and finally meet and communicate with humans. My thinking was with the Earthly transformation and ascension only months away, their wisdom and advice would be invaluable. His answer was a provisional yes in stating that they would make contact, but only with those “who can listen.”

by Lea Kapiteli

According to Mezereth Yowies were here from the very beginning, we were not. They are what he calls “elemental beings” and can disappear at will and perform many magical feats that nearly all humans have lost. They do not trust humans and detest Aliens and have very good reasons for avoiding either group.

Of course, mainstream science is not convinced and, in most cases, openly derisive and sarcastic if the subject is raised. Their thinking is that because not one of their kind has been captured, studied and dissected, they do not exist. The actual truth is they cannot be caught or caged by us as we are too limited and dull to be able to do so. But, if Mezereth is right, and so far he has never been wrong, they are about to come out of their hiding and will share with those who have ears that can listen.

The Original Elders and Dreaming stories confirm they are real in every sense, that is a fact. What is also a fact is that the experts say they do not exist and are not real, what is lost in their translation is that they are also contesting the truthfulness of the same Elders and Dreaming stories. As much as this is the norm from the time of the British invasion of 1788 until very recent times, it still applies here. I have never met an Original Elder who doubts the existence of Yowies, and I have never read a text or academic paper in agreement. Seems like another case of same old, same old …

Someone or something is outside my bedroom and inside my bedroom, at their leisure. These are our facts, which we are dealing with on a nightly basis, yes I know, the doubters will scoff and certainly demand a photograph. They want a face and hairy body in clear focus, and I have been more than close enough to take a photograph, but to complete that assignment I have to walk around the same corner I skulked away from not so long ago. For now, we do not have a photograph, but we do have a ‘bucketload’ of circumstantial evidence which includes three sessions of outdoor screaming, a light switch turned on, voices in the bedroom, over a thousand day-time hoots, and something/someone banging and stomping in the wilderness.

Whatever is responsible, it is not a human, certainly not a monkey nor a is it a growling male koala. The Original Lore, Dreaming Stories and Elders consulted give the same details and name: a Yowie. Seriously, what is left over, what other alternative do I have? We are in the middle of this right now, and the one thing the Yowies have shared with me is their utter frustration with having to constantly be on their guard, always hiding and concealing. It is like a prison without walls and want out, now! They know the change is almost upon us, and because of this, the walls and wardens of their prison walls will vanish into, what the Hopi prophecise to be, a puff of “smoke.”

And what a sacred blessing that will be for the minority of humans granted the right to stay. Yowie magic, strength, wisdom, compassion and their truthful knowledge of the real story of the Earth and human evolution is the essential ‘manna from heaven’ that will inspire and guide the new settlers in their journey towards their Mother and Creator. The Yowies could be our solution and salvation, but all of this depends on whether we “have ears to listen.”

A Brief Rock Excursion

All the way through this personal introduction to Yowie culture and future plans, we kept trying to establish a link, be it ever so tenuous, but outside an overload of potential topics we have nothing beyond both this rock and Yowies are an Australian product.

by Ros Mulder

Ros has had this rock for some time. Some people have given her their version of what this rock is all about, and in some cases, their opinions have verged on the ridiculous. The upshot is that there is no other rock known of in this country that looks similar, and any claim as to its purpose is speculative at best, and often much less. The closest we can get to the truth is to ask the person who bought and has kept this rock since. When a rock comes our way either through someone giving it to us or being bought by Ros, I spend days being with, touching and holding the rock before beginning to investigate why and how. What this comes down to when dealing with sacred objects is that if the custodian is worthy of holding the rock it will reveal itself when the time is right.

Photo by Ros Mulder

That being the case with these rocks, our report is based upon what Ros believes this huge rock to be, as there is no comparison in Australia on offer, nor have we personally seen this rock, so it really does come down to what she feels and intuitively senses. She found overseas examples of the same style and shape of rocks used as a heavy lamp where an oil was placed inside the large depression then lit. It certainly isn’t portable and is meant to stay in one location. We can only assume it was used during ceremony. Once including the questions raised relating to how it was made, what is clear is that this rock is yet another enigmatic addition to the hundreds of rocks we have seen or are custodians of that just does not fit into the limitations of any mainstream narrative.

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