a weary sense of sadness lingers
Aug. 25th, 2013 02:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ravenswordYesterday was my niece's 18th birthday, and what she wanted to do was go ghost hunting. We (my mother and I) have been attempting to set something up for MONTHS with little to no luck.
Finally, we managed to convince the police in Martinez, CA that we are not complete whack jobs and got permission to get into Alhambra cemetery for a few hours just before dark. Unfortunately, no one is allowed in after dark.
I'm a fair mix of skeptic and believer when it comes to things beyond the "normal". I keep an open mind, but I'm always gonna look for the logical explanation first, before I claim "supernatural"....that said, Alhambra cemetery, where we went, is said to have a lot of "orb" and other activity.
I didn't really look at a lot of the claims of activity before we went, I like to go into something like this without any preconceived notions.
In the course of our time there, I took a lot of pictures, and had two instances that might be orbs...but might just be sun flare/spots. I'm not fully convinced in either direction, to be honest.
This the most significant example.
Most of us there had some sort of "personal experience"...but some of that can be chalked up to the power of suggestion, I think. There was one time when I was fairly certain someone was stroking my arm in a comforting gesture. At a spot near the bottom of the hill that is the site of the Potter's Field portion of the cemetery, I experienced an intense pressure around my head, stronger at the back. The two people with me also experienced this. When we moved away, the feeling left.
My mother had a moment where it felt like someone grabbed at her chest. My brother also mentioned something, but I can't remember what now.
Mostly, I walked around taking pictures, and just absorbing the atmosphere. I was drawn repeatedly to the most run down portions of the cemetery, the places where names and dates have long been forgotten, where the tombstones have broken or crumbled, where the living left behind were too poor to do more than erect wooden monuments that time has ravaged...I feel almost as if I am called to bear witness to these lives, lived out in days when the modern world we live in could not even be conceived, lost in time...even when they were planted here, in long rows of graves marked only by a number...
There are places here that make me pause, make me stop to listen to the wind and the stories whispered in the leaves on the ground...a weary sense of sadness that lingers long after you've locked the gates behind you.
Finally, we managed to convince the police in Martinez, CA that we are not complete whack jobs and got permission to get into Alhambra cemetery for a few hours just before dark. Unfortunately, no one is allowed in after dark.
I'm a fair mix of skeptic and believer when it comes to things beyond the "normal". I keep an open mind, but I'm always gonna look for the logical explanation first, before I claim "supernatural"....that said, Alhambra cemetery, where we went, is said to have a lot of "orb" and other activity.
I didn't really look at a lot of the claims of activity before we went, I like to go into something like this without any preconceived notions.
In the course of our time there, I took a lot of pictures, and had two instances that might be orbs...but might just be sun flare/spots. I'm not fully convinced in either direction, to be honest.
This the most significant example.
Most of us there had some sort of "personal experience"...but some of that can be chalked up to the power of suggestion, I think. There was one time when I was fairly certain someone was stroking my arm in a comforting gesture. At a spot near the bottom of the hill that is the site of the Potter's Field portion of the cemetery, I experienced an intense pressure around my head, stronger at the back. The two people with me also experienced this. When we moved away, the feeling left.
My mother had a moment where it felt like someone grabbed at her chest. My brother also mentioned something, but I can't remember what now.
Mostly, I walked around taking pictures, and just absorbing the atmosphere. I was drawn repeatedly to the most run down portions of the cemetery, the places where names and dates have long been forgotten, where the tombstones have broken or crumbled, where the living left behind were too poor to do more than erect wooden monuments that time has ravaged...I feel almost as if I am called to bear witness to these lives, lived out in days when the modern world we live in could not even be conceived, lost in time...even when they were planted here, in long rows of graves marked only by a number...
There are places here that make me pause, make me stop to listen to the wind and the stories whispered in the leaves on the ground...a weary sense of sadness that lingers long after you've locked the gates behind you.
