Alien Encounters of the Valley Kind…Or The Day Gladys Stood Still

There are aliens in the Valley. I have seen them. Furthermore I knew they were coming. Strange hieroglyphs at the corner by Swiss Hall signal their arrival. It is time for the annual alien migration and ultimate meeting with the Mother Ship. In pods (or do they come from pods?) of a half dozen or fifty the aliens drift south through the Valley heading for their final rendezvous at Mt. Ranier—or Planet Bellevue.

These extraterrestrials have bulging heads, wear flashy unitards, and glide through the Valley on sleek EEMs (Earth Exploratory Modules). The ETs whiz along, resolve rigid on their faces. That Mother Ship will not wait for stragglers. And for that reason most pass silently, intent on destination, not journey. Some, the stragglers perhaps, chatter with each other as they glide by. Their words are lost in the slipstream. I don’t believe these lycra-swaddled beings have names but are identified by numbers, much the same way the Valley dairy cows wear numbered ear tags. The numbers are displayed on their EEMs or backs where they flap jauntily in the back draft.

With this alien invasion the Valley seems crowded and hurried this morning. Fortunately these ETs aren’t, hostile, just stand-offish. They scarcely notice Gladys and me as we putter along the shoulder in our typical leisurely fashion. A nod every once in a while. That is it.

On our return Gladys and I encounter a small pod of ETs at the entrance to Ed’s driveway. They have stopped to hydrate. Up the road some of their clan (wearing yellow and green unitards) are tending to an EEM with mechanical problems. Gladys and I stop for a close encounter of the friendly kind. “Greetings, Earthling.” (Ah, they speak our language.) I learn the pod belongs to the clan Lakemont Cycle, Planet Bellevue. Gladys doesn’t seem intimidated in the least by their shiny EEMs and has her photo taken with the aliens’ “rides.” One friendly ET offers to take a photo of the author and Gladys posed with his clan, corroborating evidence of aliens in the Valley.

The aliens are gone from the Valley now. Safely harbored in the Mother Craft, I suppose. But before their departure, they leave this Earthling these parting words: “On your left!” With a flash of color and back wash of sweat—or is it sunscreen—they shoot by, passing Gladys like she was standing still.

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