Last night I was in a dream about the woods back home, behind my grandmothers house where I used to hear the wolves at night. Even in the middle of the summer I could feel a chill there, especially at the small cave where Gramma would show me where, ages ago, Rebel Soldiers had stopped and camped on their way to what would be the Battle of Pea Ridge. We used to find beads and arrowheads in the dirt from Indians, but Gramma said it was disrespectful to pick them up.
Wet leaves, pine and dogwood trees, and the sounds of so many, many birds were in this lucid dream, and I wanted to cry when I woke up. I remember laying on the front lawn watching thick thunderheads roll in. It was like seeing white Christmas lights blinking in thick snow, moving slowly, churning and growling.
My Gramma also used to tell me stories about her own Grandmother, Cirraldine; a mischievous Irish woman who lived on that very farm and helped raise her. I'm not entirely sure how true all the stories were, but one of them was that she helped nurse a young raven back to health and that it lurked around the property and would sit with her on the porch when it got old. What a companionship, eh?
I miss my home so much; miss the mystery and legends about all of it, and feeling connected no matter how much time separated me from the past.
Don't think I'm crazy or overly spiritual, I'm very scientifically-minded, in most cases. But there is truth, and in that truth, there are many strange events that took place at home. For one: my grandparents bought a gorgeous property at Sugar Creek to build their dream home (the fourth home they've built together) and we were walking along the newly-dug area after a big rain. A large amount of stone was spread around and I noticed a very large, rectangular cement block had been unearthed. I had no idea what it was, but my Grandfather immediately grabbed his cellphone and started yelling at it. Gramma and I went to investigate and she was laughing; I wasn't sure why.
Of course, it turned out to be a grave.
My grandparents had to give up the property so that an archaeologist team could come in and excavate more graves, and the area became a historic site.
I've been thinking about that time all day, for some reason.
Happy Lunar New Year, everyone
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spliff:
Your very talented in writing and artwork...blows my mind
hemi:
Happy new years!