Images In The Mirror

Too often we see images in mirrors that haunt us for years until we can let them go . . . that is, when they no longer frighten us. This seems to be the key to letting go of haunting images that usually are seen in a mirror. 

Mirrors do creep me out. I’ve had my share of mirror experiences, but I do have a fondness of hearing the experiences of others who have seen images in mirrors.

Years ago I heard of a celebrity who saw a murder in a mirror. I don’t remember the details or who the celebrity was, but since that day I’ve had this love/hate relationship with mirrors. Are there messages for us to unravel left in mirrors? Is it residual energy captured in mirrors? Or is it a warning against vanity of our constant need to look at our image in a mirror?

People do believe spirits get trapped in mirrors, that’s why when there is a death in the family, mirrors are covered out of respect — and to prevent their spirits from being trapped inside it.

There is also a belief that mirrors are portals from which good and evil spirits can travel through from one realm to another. 

When Mary Beth lost her grandmother, she spent hours in her room gazing into her mirror, praying to speak with her grandmother once again. At night her mirror would vibrate, waking her. She would get out of bed and peer into the mirror calling to her grandmother . . . but she never received a message from her or saw her image in the mirror. Her mother thought this obsession of Mary Beth’s was unhealthy and removed the mirror from her room, but she found other mirrors in the house to gaze into.

She had the hand mirror of her grandmother’s that she hid in a drawer along with her brush and comb. When Mary Beth was alone in the house she would bring it out and call to her grandmother. One particular day, Mary Beth decided to gaze in the mirror and speak to her grandmother as though she was actually there. She had so very much to share. This was calming to her until one day, she saw something in the mirror . . . and it wasn’t her grandmother or any relative.

It was an elderly man dressed in overalls. His mouth was moving, but Mary Beth couldn’t hear what he was saying. She was torn between gazing deeper into the mirror and putting it in the drawer.

Of course, Mary Beth gazed deeper into the mirror. She even put it up to her ear. She had to know what this old farmer had to say. She did live in an old farm house with 100 acres. There was probably something important she needed to do to help him. Mary Beth was an avid reader of mysteries. This was an adventure she was eager to pursue.

Her mother returned home. Mary Beth quickly put the mirror to the drawer. Her adventure had to wait.

She asked her mother about the previous owner. There wasn’t much to tell, but there was something strange about the son who sold them the place. 

“He told us to always keep a light on in the barn. Well, you know your father, he didn’t do what others told him to do.”

“But the barn has a light on at night.”

“Yes, now it does, but when we first moved in, he turned it off since we weren’t using it, except for storage.”

Mary Beth remembered how all their boxes were ruined due to the barn flooding. The strange thing was there was no rain or snow that could have caused it, it was summer. When her father left the light on in the barn, the flooding stopped. But this was after he spent a fortune on plumbers and surveyors to check over the property to discover a reasonable explanation.

Since Mary Beth couldn’t hear what the farmer in the mirror was trying to tell her, she thought her mystery should begin in the barn. That seemed to be the logical place to take the old mirror and gaze in it. Her mother thought it a wise move to get the mirror out of the house and the barn seemed a logical place. She climbed up into the loft, set it up against some bales of hay and started calling to the old farmer.

“I know there’s something strange about this barn,” Mary Beth began. “What do you want me to know?”

“Well,” responded the mirror, or so she thought. There was no image, just the statement “well.” 

Mary Beth was quite confused, well what she thought. Then she thought of water. “A water well!” she exclaimed. That had to be it.

The old farmer’s image was seen in the mirror. He told Mary Beth of how he was out fetching water from the well and felt a sharp stabbing pain in his chest. He fell forward and into the well. His wife and children looked all over for him. They couldn’t believe he would run off, but since he hadn’t returned, that’s what they believed.

The family moved away. The old well was obsolete in the minds of the new owners who wanted to modernize the old farm house. It was filled in with dirt and the brick casing was used as flooring for the new barn that was built over the old well.

Mary Beth looked down at the patch of old bricks that made a strange circular pattern on the barn floor. “Could this be the grave of the old farmer in the mirror,” she thought.

After much persuading on Mary Beth’s part, her father finally had the barn floor dug up and the bones of the old farmer were discovered and removed. It was confirmed that Mr. Clay Miller had fallen into the well. His children returned and gave him a fitting funeral.

There are indeed many mysteries to uncover . . . hidden within mirrors.

What have you seen in your mirrors? Please let me know in the comments below.

Thanks for stopping by!


Are Apparitions Always Transparent?

The short answer is No.

When Josie was 10 years old, she was going to church camp.

At around 6 in the morning she got out of bed, showered, washed her hair and sat in the living room in the dark before her parents awoke and got ready to fix breakfast and take her to the church.

She was already feeling homesick and she hadn’t even left yet. She went into the kitchen, turned on the overhead light, went out to get the newspaper and sat at the kitchen table to read it.

Josie didn’t hear anyone come into the kitchen, but she felt as though she was being watched. She looked up and saw a young woman with straight blond shoulder-length hair, a flowery blouse, black jeans and white tennis shoes.

“What are you doing here?” Josie asked. She didn’t see anyone when she went out to get the paper. Did she forget to lock the door?

She just stood there with her arms crossed looking at Josie.

Josie got up and ran to tell her mother some stranger was in the kitchen.

Her mother immediately got up, put on a robe and slippers and went out to confront this stranger in her kitchen.

When Josie and her mother got to the kitchen, no one was there. They searched the house, but found no one. The door was locked and bolted from the inside.

Josie knew what she saw. Her mother tried to explain it away, but it looked like a real person, not a ghost.

At breakfast with her parents, she tried to put the incident behind her. They spoke about camp and what a great time she was going to have. Her father spoke of the fun he had as a kid going to camp and camping with his family.

When Josie arrived at the church camp after a long bus ride, one of the camp counselors looked exactly like the woman she saw in the kitchen that morning, but she was dressed differently.

This unnerved Josie. When she was assigned to the cabin of this particular camp counselor, she burst into tears. She didn’t know how she was going to survive a week with the “ghost” in her kitchen as her camp counselor.

Immediately, the woman took Josie aside to see what was bothering her. Josie explained the events of the morning. The counselor asked her where she lived. Three years ago to the day, the camp counselor’s twin sister was visiting her boyfriend who lived at that address. They were having an argument and he killed her right in the kitchen.

The camp counselor took it as a sign that her sister was telling her she was all right and perhaps knew Josie would be seeing her later that day to pass on the message.

“But she looked so real,” Josie said.

Since the apparition said nothing and was standing with her arms crossed, it didn’t seem at all friendly, but defensive. That may have been how she stood, facing her boyfriend before she was killed.

It’s not a pleasant story as far as the deceased twin was concerned, but for Josie and the camp counselor it explained something about the afterlife and how we are messengers for them, even when they don’t communicate with us. They do come to us in the form that we will accept . . . and sometimes scare the wits out of us.

Apparitions can be transparent and they can also be very lifelike. Here are other experiences:

Melonie was a high school math teacher.

She was working late at the high school when a little girl wearing a long black dress and boots with buttons up the side asked her, “Have you seen my mama?” Melonie said no and the little girl disappeared, just vanished. Melonie had seen apparitions before so this didn’t alarm her, but she did feel sad that this child was looking for her mother. Melonie wanted to show her to the light. That was probably where her mother was waiting for her.

Matt saw a pirate walking around the mall one night.

Matt was a security guard at the mall. All the stores were locked up and the cleaning crew was leaving. He was just going to go through the mall one last time before taking his dinner break when he saw a man dressed like a pirate with a patch on one eye and a sword in the sash that was tied around his waste.

Matt thought it was a man in costume. He called out to him to stop. He shouted, “The mall is closed and you have to get out!”

He looked all over the mall for this pirate, but didn’t see him. His buddy was in the security room with all the cameras and recordings. He asked if he had seen a pirate walking around the mall. His friend thought it was some kind of joke and waited for the punch line.

He checked the recordings, but there was no man dressed as a pirate walking around the mall.

Any doors that opened, would sound an alarm and that didn’t happen.

Three experiences of seeing ghostly apparitions that were three dimensional lets us know that apparitions are not always transparent.

This probably happens more often than we realize. I’ve been known to talk with apparitions at my local grocery store, believing it was a person shopping just like me … but later seeing the apparitions floating a few inches above the ground and walking through cars while crossing the parking lot.

So … just remember we’re not alone … there are apparitions all around us — some we can see and some we can’t.

I hope you enjoyed this post.

Thanks for stopping by!


Have You Seen A Ghost?

That’s what we want . . . or is it!

A great image of ectoplasmic goo that is transforming right before our very eyes into a human form.

I was over on Twitter the other day and a “person to follow” suggestion was a woman author with a menopausal character who sees ghosts. I find it an interesting concept, but didn’t catch her name nor the title of her book. I’m wondering if she’s a “ghost whisperer” or goes out ghost hunting . . . I can only image this woman in a retirement community in Florida with all these ghosts hanging around waiting for a turn to talk with this menopausal woman.

Or . . . perhaps it will be similar to Murder She Wrote where there were all these murders taking place in this little town . . . until Jessica had to move along and travel . . . It just got too suspicious to have murders taking place around one individual . . . I suppose we do attract our interests . . .

Well . . . that was an interesting detour . . .  I hope you’ve had time to study the image above.

The center left image looks a bit like Jack Skellington from the Nightmare Before Christmas. It may be his stance and those long legs.  It looks like he’s wearing a suit or tux.  Does the head look like a skeleton’s head to you?

Then there’s the image on the left.  I think it’s too big for Sally (keeping with the film theme).  And what is approaching “Jack” from his left?  It looks like a man wearing a hat.  Are they shaking hands?  The image on the left seems to be carrying a baby.  Do you see them?

Is that a portal they’re standing in on the grass?  Does that look like a circle to you?

Gazing at images and gazing through hours of video recordings is much like cloud watching or trying to see through the fog.

Why do it?

Just on the off chance that you capture something supernatural to show your family and friends and anyone else who cares to see.  And, for no other reason than it amuses you.  As it does me.

I remember as a child going outside and watching the fog roll in.  Years later there was a movie called The Fog.  Had I known that then . . . and what was in the fog . . .

Have you noticed when you’re quietly communing with nature, thinking of nothing in particular, just feeling at peace and so very calm is when you see something . . . something out of the corner of your eye?

My grandmother had this huge front porch where we would sit after dinner.  The only problem was other neighbors did the same and there were people walking by who would stop to chat.  Quiet contemplation would have to wait until everyone settled back into their homes or were content to be quiet on their porches.

I tried to be quiet so I wouldn’t be sent off to bed, but that would have been all right.  I had the front upstairs bedroom with a lovely window seat where I could sit and watch out the window.  There was the apparition of a man riding in a wagon like in Little House on the Prairie.  I enjoyed hearing the clip-clop of the horse’s hoofs and the creaking of the wagon as it rolled down the street.

It’s times like that when I set up my camera on a tripod, turn it on and wait.

I don’t believe I have to go to a known “haunted” place to see what there is to see in the spirit world.  I can do it from the comfort of my own patio.  If I don’t see anything, maybe, just maybe the camera will pick something up.

And there is always activity going on in the front of my house as well . . . but don’t tell my neighbors . . . They pretty much ignore me . . . But . . . I know what I know . . .

It’s more difficult for me to go for a walk with camera in hand, but it’s not out of the question.  Sometimes we have to go to the “ghosts.”

Ghost Hunting, in whatever form you choose is an enjoyable pastime.  At the very least it would be nice to have an infrared camera for your night time picture taking and video recording.  I also like one that I can use in the daytime.  Not two cameras, but one that does both.  Ghosts, in my experience, don’t only come out at night.

Here are a few examples:

I know, I’ve pretty much broken from my tradition of telling ghost stories and got all these random thoughts in the mix . . . but when one is looking for “ghosts” or unusual paranormal activity, one does need to clear one’s mind . . . or ramble on . . .

Kind of the spooky thing is . . . a ghost will pop up and make a comment about something I was thinking about . . . or I’ll get a thought in my head about something else — although related . . .

Which reminds me of a place in Alabama a friend of mine told me about . . .

I believe it was once a restaurant with a bar . . . The woman who owned it loved the paranormal and had more money than common sense . . . She collected items from known haunted places as well as from places where crimes took place.

I’m not talking about trinkets . . . I’m talking about the actual bar from a haunted tavern . . . An old teller’s station in a bank where a robbery took place back yonks ago . . . and, of course, people were killed . . .

This woman welcomed all kinds of odd things into her restaurant . . . along with any paranormal “ghosts, gouls or gobblins” that wanted to come along . . . and stay for awhile.

And, yes . . . there were ghost stories from the workers who had the opportunity to work there. One of them I really like . . .

Every night at around 10 PM, a man would walk in and sit at the bar . . . he would order whiskey and then disappear . . . The young man tending bar would swear the man was real . . . dressed a bit old fashioned, but real . . . He never paid for the drink . . . and he never drank it . . .

Of course, in this same restaurant, there was a basement with items the owner bought, but didn’t have a place to put them . . . well, except in the basement . . . There were always sounds coming from there . . . usually whispering and sometimes loud bangs . . . and many customers and work staff alike had seen ghostly apparitions running through the dining hall . . .

There was also a couple who would dance . . . a waltz . . . they were dressed to the nines, appropriate for their era . . . and dance the night away . . .

It was a lively place. Everyone was sad when the place closed its doors. A friend of mine and I would muse about buying it and reopening it . . . I think it had three stories . . . Initially, I thought I’d move there and live at the very tippy top of the building . . . but then I thought better of it . . . plus the woman had no interest in selling . . .

I thought, too, it would make a great museum and use all the space to display the whole collection of spooky stuff. I would enjoy archiving it and making a little booklet telling the tales from each artifact as well as the stories from those who saw ghosts, ghostly apparitions, heard sounds . . . or just got a creepy feeling.

Well, nothing came of this . . . but I still think about that place from time to time.

Thanks for stopping by!