Saturday, October 31, 2009
All Hallows Eve
From all the coves and hollows, pale mists swirl and rise . . . spirits of the Cherokee . . . the Scot-Irish, the English, the Germans . . . all those who called these mountains home. . .
The mist clings; it whispers in your ears. . . twines in your hair . . . you breath it in and with it all the history of these haunted hills . . . you are part of us forever . . . the voices echo and recede . . .
It's a good night for drawing near the fire and telling ghost stories . . .