inspired by:

Come/Lior Shoov



come back with me

let those shy eyes fall

as lips remember the taste

of that place

that glass city by the sea

where birds lent their wings

to kaleidoscope beams

oh how you’d chase

as you soared

high upon those rusty swings



come back with me

let us remember my love

what it meant to run wild

how it felt to be free

beyond a heavy heart

back to never ending dreams

where words glittered

as golden as your hair

painting tall tales upon the air



come back with me

where tears never knew the way

and the trees

those delicious story tellers

oh the worlds they’d use to splay



come back with me

to that glass city by the sea

where waves kissed you true

and getting lost in the rain

was where you remembered

all the parts of you








her never ending bloom

oh she has her cracks

where the wild things grow

and fault lines

only she knows

in shade she finds

a rebirth of cities

where archaic winds whisper

hold testaments along crooked stone

all that glitters is not always gold

they cry

they bemoan

yet she

in a secret garden

sinew among the weeds


 🌹Blackmill- Evil Beauty🌹

i often find tranquility among the blooms and funerary art within cemeteries. when i came upon this image the words naturally came. the attached song selection lends the journey to what my lens saw and my mind found. I hope you find it so too. Enjoy 🌹

I went totally ninja to capture this beauty hiding in the brush at a local trail I adore. I’m truly in love with the blue heron and always grateful to watch them in their element. Having my camera ready to capture the moment, always a bonus. I especially like this as you can see the water droplets from his beak and how he looks as if he’s swallowed the sun ☀️ I adore macro photography but lack the proper lens so when I can closely imitate it, I gleam.

Cameras, Coffee and Cold Spots: The Hollow

Ferry Plantation House

March 3, 2016 1:40am


This was my first introduction to paranormal investigation with a organized team of investigators. I was invited to come by my friend and at the time, team member Jason. Initially I was attending simply to observe and potentially write an article about the team and the intrigue that comes with paranormal investigating. The team’s home base at the time was The Ferry Plantation House. If you want to read more about its history which includes an interesting witch or two, you can read it here.

The land of the plantation at its prime extended for miles. Over time that changed leaving it as it is now, as part of a cul-de-sac, surrounded by private homes and a large grassy field. Upon walking the grounds I noticed a tennis court in the middle of the field surrounded by trees and asked one of the team members about it as it seemed strikingly out of place. His response was “Oh that’s where the Indian burial ground is. The neighbors became weary of late night trespassers attempting to find and steal relics so they decided to cement it over to protect it.”

“Oh, okay” is all I can muster.

And then I saw the tree.

Seeing it off in the distance this tree was quite ornate to my eyes. Me being the nature lover I am, I had already made plans that I’d be coming back during the day just to take pictures of it.  Its bare sloping branches in near perfect symmetry was impressive to me and kept me ogling it. The history of it, not so much.

Once upon a time part of what still stands of the plantation was once used as courthouse. The tree at that time was used for hangings for those convicted as well as the demise of slaves. The docent of Ferry Plantation House advised me that it is of public record that at least three slaves had been hung from its branches.

Approaching it I discovered the huge hollow at its base. I’ve always thought these were mysteriously awesome and this instance was no different. When one of the team members suggested I go inside of it, I didn’t hesitate. What happened next is hard to explain but I will try here.

Armed with a mini flashlight and a K-2 meter (used to detect spikes in electro magnetic energy which is said to occur when a spirit is present), I leaned in and positioned my body inside the tree. Much to my surprise the hollow expanded at least a hundred feet up giving me plenty of room to maneuver around. My own private oasis. In what little I know overall about trees, I do know that the size of a hollow is indicative of a tree’s age. With this being as large as it was, it was pretty obvious that I was standing inside what possibly could be over 220 years of history.

Alone in the darkness, I began to get this overwhelming feeling of sadness and the tree seemingly was pulling me, almost in a hypnotic kind of way. I know it sounds crazy. I know. But it’s what happened. I stood there with a sense of being anchored within the tree circling my flashlight above me peering at the empty space that was beginning to make my chest heavy. After a few minutes the voices of the guys outside grabbed my attention and its as if I came out of my trance. Upon maneuvering myself out of the tree I was hit with a second wave of emotion. The sudden need to cry. I stood there a moment longer just leaning back staring up at its beauty while the guys showed me a picture they’d snapped of me while I was inside. We slowly make our way back the house and I walk away with a sense of confusion but notice the further we distance ourselves from the tree, the heaviness of my chest slowly diminishes.

The hanging tree at Ferry Plantation House
standing in the hollow of the hanging tree


 For more paranormal history and experiences at one of the most haunted places in Virginia, you can read more of the Ferry Plantation House unexplained here.