The Ghosts Are Coming

Do you believe in ghosts?

My answer depends on what kind of ghosts you mean.  I don't believe in the creepy un-dead or spirit wanderings of departed souls.  While dead people don't haunt us, the spirits and memories of the past can, and often do.  Especially if you're paying close attention.

During this time of year especially, if you keep your eyes open and know where to look, you can see these ghosts materializing.

Two cases in point:

This article tells the story of Easton, CT.  Not the Easton of 2010 that is known for being a bedroom community of NYC, but the old Yankee Easton of c. 1925 that was buried under water to create the Easton Reservoir.  As this year's drought has taken its toll, the water level has dropped.  And the ghosts of Easton's past, represented by the ruins of old buildings and stone walls, have started to emerge.

But you don't have to wait for a drought to see such manifestations.  As the trees shed their dying leaves, they begin to reveal the secrets they've hidden since last spring.  You have only to slow down, pay attention, and keep your eyes peeled . . .

 

I passed this spot a dozen times back during the summer when I was riding my bike to work.  But only recently did I spot a ghost of the Berlin to Middletown railroad line across this field.  Do you see it there in the distance?  How about if I zoom in . . .

 
You'll have to excuse the camera quality of my iPhone, but if you tilt your monitor just right, you should see, just beginning to poke out of the trees, this beautiful stone arch bridge.  The railroad was abandoned and torn up years ago, and the trees have long since reclaimed much of the roadbed.  But this bridge remains - a monument to the memory not only of the railroad, but to the spirit of the men who built it.

Of course, if your tastes run to the more traditional monuments, which tend to be collected in cemeteries, you have plenty to choose from in old New England.  I first started thinking of these ghosts of the past as I rode my bike one autumn day a few years ago and my imagination was ignited by the passing scene of an old cemetery, lost in the woods.  Though I've posted this story before, I thought it particularly apt given the season  . . .

If you want to see ghosts, ride your bike in Autumn along a lonely back road.  I don't believe in ghosts - at least not the kind you usually think about.  But I do believe in the ghosts of the past - the hauntings of a place by the memories of the people who were there.  Who were they?  Did they have dreams and plans like we do today?

My friend John and I rode past this cemetery a couple years ago.  It's a fairly typical example for this part of the state, where old farmland has been reclaimed by the forest just like the farmers and their families were eventually claimed by time.  It's a very quiet place out in the New England countryside, made all the more eerie by the sunless sky and cold breeze.

On a bike, you're not only closer to everything physically - you smell the fallen leaves and the wood fires burning and feel the cold wind on your skin - but you get closer mentally as well.  Out in the country on a bike all you hear besides the hum of your tires on the pavement are the sounds of the wind going by, the squirrels gathering their food for the winter, and the rustling of the trees.

If during your ride you stop at a spot like this and imagine, even for a few minutes, how these people lived, who they loved, what their hopes were and whether they ever achieved them, you might see some ghosts.  At the very least you'll appreciate more deeply what they went through and how privileged we are today.

And if you're especially quiet, you may even hear in the sound of the leaves floating by on the breeze a whisper of thanks from those people for not letting them be forgotten.