Halloween always brings out the ghouls and the ghosts of the past. They swirl through the trunks of the trees like mist and hide among the gold and yellow leaves of the last light of autumn.
On the hills and harbors of the Hudson Valley this Halloween, I can’t help but notice the crooked, moss covered tombstones dotting the countryside under the grey sky. The ghostly hands of the trees we trimmed earlier in the season reach again down towards me, and a rustle in the forest makes me wonder if the Headless Horseman will be looking for Ichabod Crane somewhere in these hills tonight.
I never thought my house was haunted, though, but sometimes I find little reminders that the ghosts of homeowners past may be physically gone, but part of them never really left at all. Come on in, folks, and open up the closet to find the scaaarily crooked shelving, which looks like the only thing supporting its ragged edges is the spirit of the very handyman who put them up.
Feel that coooold chill through the living room – its enough to send shivers down your spine. Could it be the old lady who left this place streaking through in a ghostly apparition? More likely its the shoddy door they installed incorrectly that causes a draft. Either way, these little remnants remind me that maybe we aren’t alone here after all.
There’s no shortage of foreclosures on the market out there right now, either, that undoubtedly harbor more than their fair share of stubborn spirits who won’t be evicted by any bank. I bet that creak in your floorboards doesn’t sound so innocent, anymore.
Happy Haunting, everyone!