Bonnie and Clyde

7/15/11

Lance and I had decided to make this trip alone since we had yet to do that.  I was curious to see if the spirits would respond more favorably to this dynamic.  We decided to go to yet another new area and see what was waiting for us there.  I was looking forward to some time with him.  Our lives are so hectic that it seems we are either asleep or running 90 to nothing when we are together.  

The area we chose is itself an enigma.  There is a laundry list of random yet equally intriguing things located in this tiny slice of geography. There are remnants of what looks to me to be an old cellar. Several hundred yards away is a small rock structure that was painstakingly built but was constructed with mortar and appears to be much newer than any of the other rock somethings on the ranch. I am guessing it may have been a smoke house.  There is the skeleton of an old car just a few yards away in another direction.  The family lore is that it was an old Bonnie and Clyde car.  No one knows for sure, but it is a cool story to tell the grand kids.  Not unlike much of the ranch, the members of the family alive now don’t know much about the area but it has always been just like it is now, curious and wonderful at the same time.

We decided to start out by snapping some photos and wandering around the area doing an EVP session.  It was a beautiful and calm night.  The sky was clear and the moon was exceptionally bright so once our eyes adjusted, it seemed almost like dusk.   I don’t think either of us was in any hurry to do anything except enjoy the night and each other. Perhaps it was our laid back, easy going approach that got the ball rolling that night.  And boy did it.

For a time we lingered under the stars content to listen to the coyotes express their displeasure at the train whistle in the distance and just be present in the moment.  Nothing more and nothing less.  There is something in all of us that needs that moment of connection to the elements.  I firmly believe it is what made the natives of this land so special.  They had a symbiotic relationship with their environment that we can only dream of.  It was the source of all for them.  They understood Mother Nature and all her many moods.  We have lost that and I think that is tragic.  Not to say that I want to live in the boonies and hunt for dinner (I don’t even like to go camping), but I would like to know some of what they knew.  To have a fundamental knowledge of our home would be great.  My grandmother has always used what she calls “indian signs” to predict the weather.  She learned them from her father in law Lemuel, and 9 times out of 10 she is never far off.  Not be stereotypical, but she is old and she does talk about the weather a lot.  

Before heading home we decided to use the Ghost Speaker just to see if we could get anyone in the mood to chat.  The spirits with us wasted no time in making themselves known.  We got a tepid response near the car and cellar, so we decided to move toward a fence that divides some of the sections.  That proved to be a good plan, because things picked up significantly. I will break it down below beside any of the relevant responses based on our questions or the direction the conversation was going.  One thing of note to us was that immediately after we said we were leaving and would be back soon we began walking toward the truck,  the Ghost Speaker said, “expect”.  Were they telling us they expect us to return?  If so, that is way cool!  

**Ghost Speaker**

brother (this was immediately after we asked whose car it had been)
notice
spoon (this is relevant because Lance had found an old spoon a few yards from this exact spot)
tea
reward (Lance had been telling him he wanted to tell the story of the area and when this was said he asked him if he would reward him if he told the story)
provide (was he offering to provide him the story?)
organization
snail
appreciate
quicksand
sea (we had just asked where they were from)
expect
drink (we left some water in an old mason jar that was lying on the ground nearby)
passenger (had they been a passenger on the sea?)

As we drove home we tried to absorb what we had just been a part of.  It was the first time we felt that the experience was uniquely ours. No distractions, no real plan, just us and them.