Ever get the feeling that someone’s watching you, that you’re not alone, that there’s a presence nearby?
Lately, I have.
No, I’m not losing it – not because of that anyway.
Stick with me here. I don’t want to lose you – not yet. I’ve got a story to share.
I’ve never been one to believe much in ghosts, restless souls that stay in a home, even through multiple owners. I am familiar with some of their stories. In fact, in my hometown, a large family added one more stocking to the banister for its spirit – a college student who took his life in the home decades ago, the night before a big exam, and who was believed to watch the young women of the family as they shower.
My husband and I had our new home on a lake in Missouri for a while before our home in Illinois sold so we could move down here full-time. When we did come before, it was always on short trips – and we were busy, doing chores or fix-it jobs around the house, entertaining friends or family, or playing on the water, so we didn’t notice that our property was otherwise occupied.
But, once I was down here for good, writing and editing each day on the screen porch, I began to sense a presence – lots of them actually.
And they were watching me – I knew it.
I was right.
There were those webbed-feet creatures parading through the yard as if they owned it, the beady-eyed fellows standing up on their rear legs peering in to see what I was doing, the bushy-tailed characters pitter-pattering up the tree outside my screen, and the buzz of tiny, winged wonders circling a few feet away.
I was surprised at first at the boldness of these spirits, who seemed not the least bit afraid of me. But then I realized – the ducks and the chipmunks, the squirrels and the hummers, and all the other little critters who live in woods and water, they weren’t being bold at all. For all that time when no one was here, this was their home – the yard, at least.
They weren’t the spirits intruding. I was.
I don’t think I’ll be calling a ghost buster or the pest control anytime soon. We’re getting along pretty well, actually. They seem to be friendly spirits, so I’ll let them stay.
But, I’d better not start hearing loud footsteps or doors slamming, or I just might need to rethink this spirit-filled coexistence.
© Ann Tracy Mueller 2012