putzblock
New Member
After spending many hours at my drawing board throughout the winter of 1991, it became apparent that given the correct equipment and an average understanding of mathematics, humans would be perfectly capable of producing large and complex crop-circle formations.
Towards the end of the 1992 season, our circlemaking team decided to test our refined techniques by attempting to produce what was, at the time, probably the most complicated design ever. It was whilst creating that formation that the following event occurred: As the sky grew darker we slowly walked along the narrow footpath that ran alongside our intended canvas for the night. I knew we had to start early if we had any chance of completing the formation before daybreak.
Once in the field, our initial job was to set up the datum line - A taut length of string (on this occasion pulled diagonally across a number of tram lines) that acts as a spinal cord from which the formation can grow. Finally we were off, and like the low munching of sheep our stompers began to turn the design into reality. After about an hour, we three circlemakers converged on the same point and began quietly discussing our progress. Suddenly my attention was drawn to a light that had appeared from nowhere. It was a few hundred yards away and directly in front of us. As soon as I'd registered its presence I alerted my colleagues. Amazed, we stood there gazing at this football-sized orange light as it hung motionless, about forty feet above the surrounding countryside. After an estimated five seconds the light began to slowly descend. Within another five seconds it had descended about ten feet and had faded into invisibility. With little time to spare, we excitedly returned to our work, always hopeful of a repeat performance.
Subsequent daylight checks revealed no evidence of the light's existence. That year also saw a large increase in the number of luminosities reported around circle sites. Did we witness a naturally occurring phenomenon - or were we really being scanned by the genuine circlemakers?
Towards the end of the 1992 season, our circlemaking team decided to test our refined techniques by attempting to produce what was, at the time, probably the most complicated design ever. It was whilst creating that formation that the following event occurred: As the sky grew darker we slowly walked along the narrow footpath that ran alongside our intended canvas for the night. I knew we had to start early if we had any chance of completing the formation before daybreak.
Once in the field, our initial job was to set up the datum line - A taut length of string (on this occasion pulled diagonally across a number of tram lines) that acts as a spinal cord from which the formation can grow. Finally we were off, and like the low munching of sheep our stompers began to turn the design into reality. After about an hour, we three circlemakers converged on the same point and began quietly discussing our progress. Suddenly my attention was drawn to a light that had appeared from nowhere. It was a few hundred yards away and directly in front of us. As soon as I'd registered its presence I alerted my colleagues. Amazed, we stood there gazing at this football-sized orange light as it hung motionless, about forty feet above the surrounding countryside. After an estimated five seconds the light began to slowly descend. Within another five seconds it had descended about ten feet and had faded into invisibility. With little time to spare, we excitedly returned to our work, always hopeful of a repeat performance.
Subsequent daylight checks revealed no evidence of the light's existence. That year also saw a large increase in the number of luminosities reported around circle sites. Did we witness a naturally occurring phenomenon - or were we really being scanned by the genuine circlemakers?