Back in March I wrote a short post about the old family plantation. Last night my brother paid a visit to the land, a small portion of which is still in the family (tangled in an inheritance mess that Dickens would envy). The cabin that my great-grandfather built ("The Old Hunter's Retreat") is still there and is show in the picture to the left, with last night's Hunter's Moon.
It's not hard for somebody like me to imagine that there were spirits walking those woods last night: my great-grandfather and his friends Dave and the Old Koon among them. My great uncle Everett was probably sitting on the porch, sketchbook in hand, listening to the barking of the dogs that have treed something down in the bottoms. I wonder if my brother heard them, too.