(143: Courtyard entrance.)
It is a silent, shady place, with a paved courtyard so full of echoes, that sometimes I am tempted to believe that faint responses to the noises of old times linger there yet, and that these ghosts of sound haunt my footsteps as I pace it up and down.
~ Charles Dickens, from Master Humphrey’s Clock
The haunted theme and I will be parting ways after this post. It was an interesting challenge and if I had the time, I’d try to stretch it out until the end of the month. I’m getting back into the swing of life and the next few days will be busy for me. It’s much, much easier to post a daily photo that doesn’t meet theme or meme requirements. Less time consuming as well.
I’m heading to Chicago on Thursday. M and I used to live in the Chicago area when he was in grad school. I’m looking forward to a week of wandering around the city, exploring the museums and seeing what’s new since my last visit there (more than a few years ago).
And who knows? Perhaps I’ll come up with something haunted to post.
(142: Haunted head. Valley Forge, PA.)
The music. <– Click on that.
And thanks to Kel for the suggestion that led to the inspiration. 🙂
(141: Going deeper into the woods.)
Then away out in the woods I heard that kind of a sound that a ghost makes when it wants to tell about something that’s on its mind and can’t make itself understood, and so can’t rest easy in its grave, and has to go about that way every night grieving.
~ Mark Twain, from The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn
I may be about finished with this theme unless some serious inspiration hits very soon because, as you can see, I am really stretching it now.
(140: The bridge. Photo © 2009 by Robin)
Last weekend M and I went for a short hike along the part of the Buckeye Trail that is near where we live. The trail looked as though it hasn’t been used for a while, overgrown in some sections and trees down in others.
There is a bridge on the main trail that crosses a small creek. It is not, as far as I know, a haunted bridge but it is, to me, a scary bridge.
In the years that we’ve been hiking this trail, the bridge has been slowly deteriorating. Not that it was in great shape the first time we crossed it, but at least the railings were still standing and the wooden slats felt as if they could hold some weight. Now when we cross it I hold my breath and go across very quickly, hoping that none of the slats crack and/or break.
It wouldn’t be a long fall and the creek doesn’t look that deep. Still, it presents an opportunity for injury. I wonder how the guy who mows the trail (when it gets mowed) feels about driving over the bridge. We might find the mower parked in the creek one day.
In other news…
(139: St. Charles line streetcar. New Orleans, LA. Photo © 2009 by Robin)
The St. Charles line in New Orleans is the oldest operating streetcar line in the world. It has been in service for more than 150 years. When in New Orleans, don’t call the streetcar a “trolley.” Although “trolley” and “streetcar” are used interchangeably in some places, New Orleanians call them streetcars.
Rumor has it that there has been a ghost-sighting along Carrolton Avenue on the St. Charles line. A tourist couple has been seen by a conductor, heads bent together over maps and tour books, looking as normal and as real as any other tourist couple. And then, well, suddenly they disappear into thin air!
My guess is that they liked New Orleans so much that they decided to come back and ride around on the streetcars occasionally as part of one big afterlife party. Or perhaps they were so lost that they’re still trying to get to their original destination (hence the need for the maps and tour books!).
Whatever the case, hauntings or no hauntings, riding the St. Charles line is an inexpensive, romantic, and lovely way to see parts of New Orleans. The St. Charles streetcar will take you through parts of the Garden District where you will see some impressive homes, churches, and antebellum mansions. Along St. Charles Avenue it passes through a tunnel of live oak trees. And if you want to visit one of the cemeteries and perhaps find a few ghosts of your own, the Lafayette Cemetery No. 1 is just a block or two from a St. Charles line stop.
(138: Beads at a gravesite. Photo © 2009 by Robin)
Most men lead lives of quiet desperation and go to the grave with the song still in them.
~ Henry David Thoreau
I suppose that might be true for some people, but most of the people I know seem to be making sure they sing loud and long and as well as they can.
I would think that, in some way, living your life without having sung your song would be a haunted life, a life haunted by the what-if’s and might-have-been’s.
(137: The haunted photographer, a self-portrait. Photo © 2009 by Robin)
I admit it. I’m really stretching to come up with stuff for the theme of “haunted.” There have been no signs of ghosts or other paranormal activities surrounding me. Grief, I suppose, might be considered a haunting in some way, but it’s hardly a ghost.
It’s getting better, the grief. Keeping busy helps. What isn’t getting better is the current state of my health. I seem to have picked up some germs somewhere and I’m feeling pretty awful. It’s the usual flu symptoms.
I’m going back to bed now.