This photo was taken at Hobcaw Barony. Honest, my windows are cleaner than that. I'm often asked if I see ghosts. More often I feel them more than see them. There's a certain heaviness in the air. When I visited Normandy, I put my senses on high alert. It was a solemn place, and I truly believe that any restless spirits there have been soothed.
Hobcaw, now that was different. Originally, a rice plantation, Belle Barruch inherited it. By 1956, she owned it entirely. Belle was a lady born into the wrong era. She was an avid hunter, had her own stables and loved her horses, and she also had an airplane hanger. The house where she last lived is in a sad state. If one of the home improvement shows would take up the cause, it could be a beautiful restoration. But there were unearthly noises in the basement. I refused to go down there.
I confess I'm a big chicken when it comes to spirits. I've told my dead relatives not to visit me because they'd scare the bejeebers out of me. (Some have made flash appearances anyway.) Now my pets that have passed do have full permission to visit whenever they like. I believe they come back to check on me and make sure I'm healing. Sometimes, I smell them. Other times, I hear the click of their claws or the jingle of their tags, or I feel and impression on my bed, which is where they always slept.
Now on to write my presentation on things that go bump in the night.