I live in the Pacific Northwest, in an area that has a high amount of native spirit energy that has accumulated over thousands of years. And, as far as I know, I don't have any native blood to call my own. Which is why it came as a bit of a shock when I seemed to get a welcoming message when I moved into my current home back in 2007.
One morning just after I moved into my house I was laying in that half awake half asleep, but still conscious of the physical world around me state. As I lay in bed I became aware of a drummer who was chanting to what I thought was a new day that was just breaking. As I listened I also became aware of cars driving nearby on the highway that's only maybe a quarter mile away. I could hear there wheels as they drove on the wet pavement. It only took a second to realize that it was raining because of the squishy noise that tires make on a wet road as they travel along.
After determining that it was raining I settled back into listening to the drumming and chanting that seemed to be right outside of my window. It only took me a few moments to become almost hypnotized to his song. I couldn't believe how good he was and thought that it must be one of my new neighbors close by. I felt welcomed and happy that perhaps this would be the way I would awaken every morning.
I continued to listen for several minutes before finally deciding that I just had to get up and try to see if I could figure out just which neighbor it was that was serenading the new morning. I wanted to let him know that I loved his music and would cherish waking up to his chanting and drumming each new day. However, just as soon as I opened my eyes the drumming and the chanting stopped instantly. But I could still hear the cars as they drove along the wet road.
In a way I was heartbroken that this was just a one concert event. But I also considered that perhaps this was spirits way of welcoming me to a new start in a new place.
by
Bill Walker
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Hi Bill, I've had similar experiences though not in a hypnagogic state but wide awake just doing normal stuff or hanging out with folks.
First time happened out here in the desert. I live in the region once known as Apacheria: The region inhabited by the Apache peoples. The city I live in once had two Cavalry Forts/Posts abandoned for the most part once Geronimo and his band surrendered once and for all. The bigger of the two was reactivated at the end of WW1 as a rehab for those suffering the effects of mustard gas. After that it was developed into residential areas and houses cover the majority of what was the old post. My young and fledgling family lived in one of those neighborhoods for a number of years and that's where we first encountered "ghostly drumming."
The first experience happened while we were unpacking groceries one evening. Something slammed into our side yard wooden fence extremely hard resulting in the fence actually leaning in the direction it was hit and when we went to investigate we smelled horses. The mix of animal scent and manure. As we were standing there scratching our heads we heard tribal drumming coming from a utility access way behind the houses. Upon investigation of that area which was maybe 75ft in length and a couple feet wide there was also no trace of anyone playing drums, no footprints, no crushed grass, nor any indication someone was back there playing tricks... We just chalked it up to living on land that was once a military post.
The next experience was in Vienna VA. We had taken our daughter down to a little creek in our neighborhood as it was one of those rare not too humid summer evenings. My wife said "shhh, do you hear that?" and there was the tribal drumming accompanied by singing/chanting, this time it was more than one drum. It was faint as if carried on the wind. Drum circle down the street? School marching band practicing? Coven doing the monthly rituals? Who knows...doesn't matter..but fun to explore the possibilities
I lived on top of a mountain just outside of Winchester VA. It was called Shawnee Land because at one time it was Shawnee Land. I always had a strong native presence when I was on that mountain. In fact I didn't really want to move to the West Coast accept that my mom's spirit kept pestering that I couldn't just stay up there and be a hermit. I did have a few interesting experiences up on that mountain but never did those spirits serenade me with a drum and chant solo. LOL
I had co-workers that lived in Winchester and Front Royal. We spent quite a few weekends out there. Camped a bunch in the valley and up in the mountains. Last year when we went East for vacation visits we stayed at a bnb in Luray...man, that's some beautiful territory.
May you have many more mornings of waking to drums, the heartbeat of the universe.
The absolute best time to be in the Blue Ridge Mountains is the Fall. The colors of the leaves for about two weeks are just unbelievable. That's certainly one of the things that I miss the most!
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