Peevish Pen

Ruminations on reading, writing, rural living, retirement, aging—and sometimes cats. And maybe a border collie or other critters.

© 2006-2018 All rights reserved

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Location: Rural Virginia, United States

I'm an elderly retired teacher who writes. Among my books are Ferradiddledumday (Appalachian version of the Rumpelstiltskin story), Stuck (middle grade paranormal novel), Patches on the Same Quilt (novel set in Franklin County, VA), Them That Go (an Appalachian novel), Miracle of the Concrete Jesus & Other Stories, and several Kindle ebooks.

Wednesday, November 01, 2006

Haunting Photos?

Yesterday was Samhain, but again I saw no ghosts. Maggie wanted to walk around the property several times last night, and—for all her sniffing and searching—turned up nothing. Not so much as a possum. The night was so warm that we sat for a while under the pin oak, basked in the moonlight, and enjoyed the quiet.

I’ve tried to see ghosts many times. Once, while at the Grove in downtown Rocky Mount, I actually smelled the perfume of Margaret Hale, who died in the 1880s, and I felt temperature changes in a room where one of the residents died of typhoid long ago. At Avenel, in Bedford, I again felt temperature changes.

However, on my own property, I’ve taken some odd photos. These two—taken in 2003, a month before the Taw Atkins graveyard across the road was dug up with a backhoe, dumped into the back of a white pickup truck, and hauled away—are a bit odd. I snapped them one morning when my old (and now deceased) border collie stared in the direction of what I photographed:

Of course, I could have just photographed the pre-dawn mist or something. Some other photos I snapped that morning were filled with orbs.

The next photo, taken in 2003 down the road at our farm, is unexplainable. The ones I took a few minutes before and a few minutes after it were unremarkable. The light toward the bottom is the setting sun under the clouds. However, I can't explain the squiggle, the dot high above it, or the dot in front of the tree. Anybody got any ideas?

Speaking of photos: This morning at 7:08, as my husband and I went out to feed and water our critters, one of the local rednecks drove by and stopped his maroon truck in the road not far from where we were and stared at us. We stopped walking toward the barn and stared back at him. (Rule of country life: Never turn your back on a rattlesnake.) He appeared to be taking photos of us with his phone. This is the same guy who swore out the false warrants against my husband in August. Why would he take pictures of us? Was my husband was carrying the bag of dog cookies and the bowl of dog food in a threatening manner? Did I brandish my coffee cup in such a way that Mr. Redneck feared for his safety? Who knows what thoughts haunted his mind? After a minute or so, he left and we proceeded to our morning chores.

Looks like the local rednecks are still haunting us. I’d rather have real ghosts.

I'm participating in National Blog Posting Month. Will I be able to post daily for a whole month?


Blogger Tom Atkins said...

Isn't it strange how odd photos can turn into art? Thanks for sharing!

Tom (an imperfect stranger)

12:30 PM  
Blogger Stacey said...

Excellent photos!


7:51 PM  

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