Right. It’s probably time I started writing things down. Maybe 25 years in a wee cottage by myself hasn’t been good for maintaining a healthy sense of perspective or maybe there really is a pattern to the daft things I’ve been seeing.

Anyway, Angus and I were out for our usual wander after tea and as we approach the forest he just stops dead and refuses to walk any further. He’s a stubborn wee thing at the best of times, but he’s normally fascinated by all the smells and sounds of that place. Not this time. I didn’t have the lead with me so I just gave up and went home.

There’s a meeting down at the church hall tomorrow to talk about… community gardening! Apparently Jennie’s veg crop this autumn is the biggest she’s seen and she wants us all to start growing our own. Good for her!

Back in the day, crofting was a way of life; not an ornament for your back garden. And surely it’s not normal to grow papayas in Scotland. I think they’re all up to something. Any excuse for busybodies to get together and scheme.

There’s a dead wild boar in my shed. It’s pretty torn up, poor thing. I’d say it was covered in scratch marks but these things go deep. It’s like something’s taken knives to it. Angus disappeared for a while and wouldn’t come when I called - I found him sniffing and pawing it.

I know he couldn’t have done this - he’s about half the size of it. But he’s been behaving so strangely recently it’s got me a big spooked. I had heard they were thinking of reintroducing wild boars to Scotland but I can’t find anything on the web about it actually happening. That forest is quite the ecosystem.

Bigfoot exists. I mean, I’ve known this for years, but Bigfoot exists in Scotland. This morning I found a trail of humanoid footprints around the cottage - big bare feet in the mud. I don’t know whether to be terrified of a home invasion or excited to meet the big man. I’ve contacted the local paper but those frauds don’t have any time for the real stories out here in the sticks.

I might have got a bit ahead of myself. There’s dirt under my toenails and in my bed. Neither are a first for me, if I’m honest. I’m starting to think I might be sleepwalking again…

I received a reply to my letter to Highland Council about the forest. Apparently they’re denying all knowledge of monkeys and giant wildcats in the area. Surprise surprise. Politicians are all the same - it was obvious they were in bed with ArkTech when that facility got approved so quickly.

Now, we’ve got a jungle sprouting in the most exposed region of the UK and I wonder how many carnivore attacks it’ll take before they investigate what’s going on down there. I’m on my own.

There’s something unearthly down there and I don’t know how much longer I can stay in Cape Wrath. I heard a beastly howling coming from the forest last night so I gathered my kit and went down there with Angus. That forest is *alive*. The bushes don’t just rustle, they growl. I felt like I was being watched from all angles.

The moment I let him off his lead, Angus started barking and ran off into the trees. I followed him deeper into the forest and… I finally caught those eyes on camera. Admittedly the footage isn’t great, and I dropped my phone in a puddle of mud, but I think it’s conclusive.

The evidence is clear: there is a supernatural presence in Cape Wrath. I need to find a way to tell the world! I’m going to seek out some people online to spread the word.