Posted on May 20, 2013 at 3:20 PM

I can hardly believe it's already time for yet another ghost story, but it is, and two good ones, back to back, to boot! Anyways, first I was sitting out on the back porch yesterday morning. I heard, at first, what I thought to be very loud music coming from back behind the trees, the Spanish peoples' house. I have nothing against the Spanish people, nor their loud music, but the next door neighbor, who is moving, sits on on her back porch and SCREAMS at them, "SHUT UP!". So, that's what I first thought I was hearing, although it was very early, Sunday morning. But, then I noticed it wasn't actually music, there was no music, it was more of a chant. Then, I was thinking that the Spanish people must be having some kind of exorcism, because that's what it was sounding like. I was also thinking that it was too loud and not Spanish, but I didn't know what it was. It sounded tribal, but not African. This is when it stopped. So, I thought, okay, short ritual, when it started again, only quietly, and from another location altogether, behind the trees. Then it stopped and started a third time, as if to let me know for damn sure that they were ghosts, and native. This time, quieter still, past, beyond the house, as if they were moving on. All at the same time that I realized what was going on I also had that wyrd feeling of belonging somewhere at sometime that I get at times, a mortal compass, I think. Just the day before I had seen my best friend and was telling her how the house is built over an invisible pond that the shamans and animals can sense, maybe it was even a pond, long, long ago. I hadn't fully realized that these even really existed until reading Ghosts Dogs of the South. There was a story in there about a pair of hounds that had vanished into one of these lakes, and their owner even heard the splash. That's a very good book, by the way. This house vanishes in the fog each night, leaks, is covered with dew, and even after the snow has melted everywhere else, we have snow. I think the natives were communicating because they must've known I was only just talking about them. I don't know, but I only just encountered another something out there in broad daylight, which is what has spurned this ghost story on. I don't even know if it was a ghost, it might have been some sort of nature spirit, because it just came out of one of the small pine trees in a golden smear from the corner of the front yard. It looked like a young man, but golden, and very fast. I do wonder about him, as he didn't seem to be human. He might have been wearing shorts, it was too fast to tell, but he was life-size. This house is protected with native mojo, and I think it keeps a lot of the ghosts out too. That would be why I'll hear them at the doors. Ghosts have a thing for doors and steps though. I don't think the Natives hate me though, because I have two different kinds of native blood from two different sides of the family. It's a good thing.