Ghostly Visions!

  Yep, it is getting on to that time!  Halloween is just around the corner and along with that comes the thoughts of eerie things.  To some folks, living on a bayou is eerie enough simply because of the local denizens that reside here.  Just the mere mention of gators or cottonmouth moccasins is enough to scare some people but, if you throw in a conversation about things screaming in the night or howling from the depths of bayou where it meets the creek, you can give many visitors a good case of the bejeebies.  (I guess I am showing my age here as "spell-check" is yelling "You cannot use that!  It is not a word!"  Umm...I am old.  I use old words.)  Anyway, the mention of anything supernatural brings out the idea that the place is haunted and...well...I am a good part of that. I am good with the analogy as it is all in fun and those who think otherwise need to lighten up a bit.

  The other morning, I peered out the screen door as Bat, the cat, wanted out.  Ahh, there was to be a lovely sunrise and I should traipse myself to the pier was all that could run through the brain...so I did.  The darkness settled around me as the sun had barely reddened the sky behind the pines on the other side of the Bayou.  Carefully choosing my way as to not step on one of those aforementioned snakes, Bat and I headed our separate ways.  He headed north while I headed south.  Soon, I was to the plank that spans the short gap to the pier planking.  This is there for high tide but makes a handy "bridge" over what could be a perfect spot for a cottonmouth to linger unseen.  Stepping lightly on the planking, I eased my way to the end of the pier.  A sole white shape could be partially seen through the darkness.  If I had been one of those scary type folks, this may have made me stop in my tracks.  (To be honest most of those folks would not have been traipsing out in the pitch black to start with but, hey!...this is me.)  The "pier ghost" stood dead still.  It did not make a move even though I edged closer.  "Well, now!  How are you my friend?" I murmured.  I received no answer.  I eased closer yet.  

  By the time I got to the end of the pier, the sky was a glorious array of reds and oranges.  My "ghost" had been starting to become drenched in the same colors but decided now was time to make its great escape.  Off to the back of the Bayou it flew on whispering wings but not without a double squawk!  Goodbye, Ghost!  

  To me, it is funny how the gorgeousness of an egret is offset by such an atrocious call.  The bird in itself is absolutely beautiful.  Its white plumes seem out of place amid the mud that is so commonplace around bayous, its graceful, elegant stance appears to be far too fragile to battle the life it lives here but it is that squawk that is most incongruous with the elegance that the bird portrays.  It just does not fit....in all fairness, though, it does fit quite well with a ghostly bayou critter!

Hiking Down A Foggy Memory Lane

  Here on the Bayou, winters are weird.  Mention the season and folks automatically think of cold, snowy days and icy nights where winds are blustery and Jack Frost visits nigh on every night.  Here, we have a few days of cold, then things turn to fog...thick, pea-soup type fog.  Following that, we have rain that precedes a bit of cold again.  It is an endless cycle that rarely varies far from the pattern.  The only bit of this weather cycle that lasts any length of time is the fog.  We have LOTS of fog.  For the past several days, the air has been filled with a fog so thick that it is difficult to see even a few feet in front of you.  Water droplets hang on anything that lingers long outside.  

Mid afternoon and the fog is so thick that it is difficult to see anything on the Bayou!

  While out hiking about the hillside with the old dog, PJ, I suddenly started thinking of times past.  When the kids were small, nights with a heavy fog usually found us scampering about the hillside.  There was something almost enchanting about being unable to see each other even though we were only a few feet apart.  We would often hike back into the drippy woods or even down along the marsh edge. The kids would "disappear" in the fog only to jump out at a sibling or at me.  Peals of laughter would fill the fog laden air after each "attack". Other times, one would start a ghost story that would grow and grow as the hike continued.  More oft than not, our hikes would end back up in the yard with a bonfire and more stories and then inside for a warming mug of hot cocoa.  

  It is sort of odd what can jog a memory.  The foggy woods with all its drippy tree limbs triggered a memory of happy times when the kids were young.  Now, I have PJ as my hiking partner and, while I enjoy his company, it is just not the same.  His antics do include a bit of prancing about at times but, lets face facts, he just cannot tell a good ghost story.  

The Apparition

  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!  

Its there!

  Sometimes the most ordinary of things can strike a chord with me and a fantastical story starts to whirl around in my brain.  I wonder about this and think perhaps I should have been an author!  Or not.  Since it takes a goodly amount of skill to ever get anything published, I probably would have still been the "starving artist".  My writing skills had better be left to this feeble attempt and not to some worthy novel. Still, those things that create wondrous illusions in my head would make for fun tales.

  What with all the interest in zombies, creatures from beyond, aliens and such, I occasionally come across something on the Bayou that would fit right in with these stories!  On my walks, I see a lot of weird things.  Take, for instance, the strange "fingers" that I found trying to dig from beneath the soil.  It was just before dark when I spied the creepy hand digging its way from some grave long forgotten.  The fingers were of the most unusual color being red and obviously from something other than human since there were only three.  Try as it might this hand (and whatever was attached) never made it completely to the surface.  In reality, this "hand" was none other than a stinkhorn mushroom that had pushed its way up in the lawn.  There it was making the yard smell a lot like a rotting corpse!  Ugh!  My imagination went wild!

  Then back behind the peach orchard near the creek bed, I found some more aliens that had landed from worlds unknown.  These were exiting their pod-shaped ship when I found them.  Their long, slender forms were ghostly white and so unlike anything that I have ever seen before. I must have startled them which caused them to sit almost motionless as soon as my presence was recognized.  These aliens may have taken over our world had I not discovered their plot and put an end to it! Actually the alien ship was a magnolia pod and the recent rains had sprouted the seeds within it.  The long slender sprouts had not been able to fully form and were on the verge of decay.  The whole scene made for quite the ghostly tale!

  I guess things are all in how you see them or all in how your own brain works.  Mine sees things in a bizarre way.  Tales of mystery are always whirring away in the cogs of my mind!  Too bad about that skill thing needed to be an author!

Things unexplained.....

Happy Halloween!  This is the night that all the preparations and decorations were in place to celebrate.  To some...the bewitching hour.  To some...a supply of ready (meaning free) treats.  To some...a time to sit back and remember times past.  Personally, although I do enjoy the creating of decorations and the time of greeting what few Trick-or-treaters dare to venture down the long, dark lane, I am ready to move on to a new holiday!  Still, there is that bit of Halloween left that must be filled!

The Little Bayou House has its share of "unexplained occurrences" that intrigue and bewilder.  Things that should be readily explained but for some odd reason defy the natural cause of things.  Namely...pictures that fly off the shelf!  This has happened not just once but many instances.  Most of the time, the said pictures were in the dining room.  There, a full wall of shelves surround the fireplace.  These shelves hold books, knick-knacks and framed family portraits.  Twice (years ago) my daughter, Elizabeth's, picture flew off the shelf and landed a good six feet from its original spot on the shelf.  Nothing was broken..the picture just landed flat on the floor.  I assumed at the time that the kids had been rough-housing and knocked the item from its resting spot.  No one ever owned up to the antics so we blamed it on our "Ghost"!   Then my mom's picture went sailing off of the shelf!  This time the kids and I were sitting at the dining table so I knew that the finger could not be pointed at any of them!  So....our "Ghost" was given credit for the deed! Several years past before another flying picture was noticed.  While I was in the living room and Michael and his friend, Chris, were upstairs playing video games, I heard a crash in that dining room again.  Oh, my!  That sounded familiar!  Sure enough, a picture laid on the floor.  This time is was a eight by ten print of Michael as a toddler.  The frame was still together but the picture was outside of the frame!  When I fussed at the boys for being too rambunctious, they came downstairs looking bewildered.  I pointed at the picture and waited for an explanation!  Right at that time, a crash was heard in the master bedroom!  We hurried in only to find that the window was open and the curtain rod was broken.  The curtain was fluttering in the breeze like a ghost itself! Once again, our "Ghost" was designated as the culprit!  Like I said..these incidents all occurred in the dining room but....last month, it happened elsewhere.....

Michael, Mark and I were all out in the yard when we heard a crash inside!  What was that???  Ms. Ez and I rushed inside to investigate!  There on the floor of the living room was Michael's senior portrait.  The frame was in shambles but the glass and portrait were in perfect condition!  Ms. Ez was not happy.  She knew something was wrong!  Either she was afraid that she was going to be reprimanded for something that she did not do or she could sense that something else had been inside!  Again...with a lack of explanation, our "Ghost" was blamed with the prank-playing!  While all these incidences might have logical explanations, we could find none.  Besides!  It is much more fun to say our "Ghost" did it!  That covers a lot of little accidents that happen..from broken dishes to spills to flying pictures!  The "Ghost" was merely at play again!