For years now, Son and I have been joking about there being a ghost that lingers around the Bayou. Let a door slam unexpectedly and "The ghost did it!" Let common items appear in strange places and "The ghost put them there!" Let anything unexplained occur and "The ghost is having fun!" That "ghost" seemed to be quite active, for a while or our imaginations were, at least. Then again, there have been several "sightings" where someone has claimed "You really DO have a ghost! It is upstairs!" There was even a series of "faces" that appeared on the wall upstairs with no explanation as to how they got there. And...hand prints on the ceiling above the stairwell suddenly appeared. Those are some twenty feet up. Oh, well. Ghost or not, there are some rather unusual things that happen around here.
For several years, my camera (no, I have not resorted to a phone for photographs) would turn itself on at the most unexpected times. Sometimes, this would result in photographs of the wall, a chair or door depending on whichever way the camera was facing. Son explained it away as the humidity wreaking havoc on the electronic parts inside the camera. I claimed it was the "ghost"! Our friendly ghost could turn on laptops, phones and even full sized desktop computers. It is obviously very technological minded...more so than I am.
Recently, however, our ghostie has been absent. It has not been playing pranks on us. There have been no odd noises, misplaced items or flying picture frames (yes, that did happen...twice.) Things have been relatively quiet. I figured our friendly ghost had vacated the premises. Then, suddenly, as if to say "Not so fast, lady! I am still here!" Things started again. One of the key-wind clocks has been regularly opened. The bezel on front (the glass door) has been repeatedly opened when no one is around. I have watched. It swings open for no apparent reason! The ghost does it! Then, most recently, a small lighted fragrance warmer has been lit. This is a beautiful, electric oil warmer that my brother and girlfriend gave to me as a gift. It fills the house with a sweet citrus scent! The light is one of those "touch" lamps that is turned on by lightly tapping the base. I turn it off each night before bed but for the past few nights, the lamp has "magically" been relit. How? At first, I thought Ms. Nycto (Bayou Princess Cat) may have climbed up on the table to touch the base but not so. Last night, the cat was sleeping soundly on the bed. The light came on and went to the brightest setting which takes three taps. How?? There was no one besides that cat and me in the room! Well, maybe? Ok, ok..."The ghost did it!" Welcome back, ghostie!
Have you ever been out at the break of dawn and suddenly get that feeling that someone or something is watching you? The hair starts to tingle on the back of your neck and you start peering into the shadows to see if something is lurking nearby. It is a strange feeling. Normally, it would not bother me much being way down here on the Bayou but, with the old dog ailing, we do not need a critter attack. Coyotes and bobcats are roaming the hillside and if they ever deemed that we were too near, it would not be a pretty sight. I am sure that, even though he is feeble, Mr. PJ would try to defend me and, in a sense, give his life for me. He is just that good of a friend....canine or not.
On this morning's hike, I suddenly stopped in my tracks. The hair started standing on end and that gut started knotting. Something, somewhere was keeping a steady eye on the old dog and me. Mr. PJ did not get the feeling and kept his slow amble down the path. Silently...slowly...I reached out and put my hand on his back. He stopped immediately and stared at me. This gave me the opportunity to scan the area. Somewhere among the underbrush, a shadowy figure lurked.
It did not take long before I found our "menacing monster". A raccoon was keeping a wary eye on this pair that was invading "his" territory. I breathed a sigh of relief but kept my hand on Mr. PJ's back. "Stay, boy, stay!" I said in a hushed voice. While I was somewhat more at ease with this being a coon, they can be vicious in their own right when cornered and this was one HUGE coon! It was nigh on as big as the old dog. There was no need to push the critter into a fight mode.
We stood motionless for a bit as the coon stared at us. Then, he silently turned and waddled down the path in the opposite direction. Mr. PJ and I turned and retraced our steps. Finding one critter was enough for this morning. If Mr. PJ had been younger and stronger, we would have ventured further down toward the creek bed but not today...not today.
There are some wild tales that attach themselves to areas like the Bayou. Some are true. The Bayou has long been the scene of a few unusual events such as plane crashes, gator attacks and "Bayou Critters". The stories behind these are fodder for a different time. Others are purely fictional. These are yarns that abound in the dark corners of the brain and come spilling out the mouth when there is a willing and gullible victim...err...visitor. I have been known to stretch the truth, create illusions or otherwise embellish a story until it suits my needs. Keep in mind, that these tales are purely for entertainment and the listener is always clued in before they leave the Bayou. Storytelling is something that has run in the family for generations so I come by it naturally. Sometimes, however, a good story is just plopped into my lap purely by accident. What makes for a believable tale is an unaltered photograph. That is undeniable TRUTH right there! Fabricating a good story about a picture is simply a matter of a few twists and turns of the imagination.
With Halloween not far from being upon us, my thoughts have turned toward decorations. One of the illusions that has always fascinated me is called "Pepper's Ghost". It is a technique named for John Henry Pepper. By using reflective material, he would create "ghosts". This was used on stage and sideshows way back in the mid 1800s. I have always longed to create my own illusions using the technique but have yet to try. Until now. Now, I have my own "Pepper's Ghost" but just not the one that goes with the name.
A few months back, my son-in-law called with a "huge favor". He asked if I would mind keeping a cat for a few hours. He and my daughter had just adopted another "throwaway cat". Robbie had taken the cat to the vet for its shots and then had to go to work. Of course, the cat could not teach dance with him so I wound up babysitting the kitty. Pepper is a sweet kitten so that was not a problem. What was a problem was trying to get her to sit still long enough for me to photograph her. (I cannot resist a photo opportunity with any critter!) This kitten is rather active and was exploring the house as soon as Robbie left. My trying to catch her image was difficult. The photographs were all "ruined" because she was antsy. Ruined for most folks. Perfect for my imaginative tales.
I figure that I can use my cat photos to my advantage. The wiggling of the kitten made for the perfect "apparition" to be caught on camera! Not many folks can claim to have photographed a ghost! A tale of the ghostly cat has been rattling around in the brain for a few weeks now, so I am sure that some day soon, I shall not be able to hold the tongue and the tale will emerge in its full glory!
Years and years ago, back when I was just a tyke, my brother and I experienced something that was a bit strange. He and I were always together, always best friends and always delving into some adventure or another. We played in fox dens, were trapped by snakes and wandered miles from the old homestead to retrieve the wayward cows. While these sound a bit far fetched according to today's standards for childhood escapades, they were all true adventures for two preschool farm kids of long ago. The aforementioned incident was perhaps even more unusual. It could be described as downright creepy.
It was not unusual for us to play in the woods beyond the field behind the barn. This area was a good third of a mile from the old farmhouse and was begging for two kids to get up to no good. We, more oft than not, met that heeding well. The day in question saw us chasing the piglets that were foraging in the old sweet potato vines. It was great fun until one pig scooted under the fence and out into the woods. Having a piglet on the lam meant that soon all others would follow. We had to catch that pig! The only thing to do was follow it under the fence and into the underbrush. It was while we were down on all fours that we saw what seemed like a dark tunnel through the underbrush. As we crawled through, a bright light became visible where the tunnel ended. We neared the edge and both of us stopped short. In the opening, there were white trees illuminated by the great light. While it was an enthralling sight, something told us that we should not venture there. Still, we were glued to the place and the vision. Something was drawing us...calling us to come forward. Two frightened kids made haste to crawl back through that "tunnel" and race back to the open field where Pop was chugging around on his old tractor. He stopped to ask two visibly shaken kids what had happened. When we told him, he just gave a stern warning not to go anywhere that felt strange. It did...the place almost felt evil. My brother and I never spoke of the vision after that.
That was odd enough but years later, my own kids were playing in that same field. The boys had gotten boomerangs for a gift and what better place to play than an open field?? All three kids were bounding about the tall grass hoping that their boomerangs would return to them. When the oldest threw one far and long, it went into the edge of the woods in the same place where the vision had appeared so many years before. I had never told my kids of the experience but later that evening, my youngest son called to me from his bed. When I went to him, he was shaking with fear. "Mom, there were white trees that scared me." All I could do was hold him. I knew what he had seen. We talked about the trees, about the tunnel and about the feeling of dread but also of wonderment.
Several years later, another incident occured but in a different spot. My oldest son and his friend came home from a hike about the woods and told of seeing white trees in a spot that felt really eerie. They had decided that their hike should come to an end and they should head home. This time, the vision was about a quarter mile to the west of where the other two sightings had been. I cannot recall if my daughter has ever experienced the phenomenon or not. It would be strange if all of my kids have!
What were these visions? Why has no one else seen them? Why the feeling of angst, the feeling of being lured into the opening yet at the same time, the feeling of dread? Was there something paranormal about the experience or are all three just figments of our imaginations?
While these tales are strange enough as all of us saw the same thing in approximately the same area, a new curve has been tossed into the plot. Just a few days ago, my oldest brother told me of a creepy experience just a few years after my youngest brother and I had seen the vision. My oldest brother said he was too scared to tell anyone all of these some fifty years. His tale..."While out rabbit hunting one night, something scared me nearly to death. I was aiming at a rabbit when all of a sudden there was a bright light shining just past the rabbit. When I pushed through the brush to see what the light was, there were all of these white trees. Nothing else was there. I had the creepiest feeling that I wanted to go into the light but something kept telling me not to go. I stood there glued to the spot for what seemed like hours before I came to my senses and ran home. I have never told anyone before." Oh, geez! This weird phenomenon just keeps getting creepier and creepier! All the other incidents occured during broad daylight but my oldest brother saw the trees at night. I have often pondered just what each of us had seen. Why has it left such an impression on us and why the feeling of dread?
Good news! The white trees in the picture are not trees at all. These are roots that were running under an old board in the garden path. When I went to replace the rotted board, I discovered the beautiful pattern of the roots and decided to photograph it. The roots did bring back a flood of memories of the "Tales of the White Trees". I think I prefer the sweet little roots to the hair-raising white trees!
