I guess I was about 4 when we moved to the country, and let me tell ya, it was the country. To get down the road to and from our house, we had to open a cattle gate. The electric poles were run just for us, and we had a party line and a private well. Our land had to be cleared of wax myrtles and organic debris. We would even have cows wander through while we were working.
It was a magical place. Not far from a river, we knew that Native Americans had lived there, but it became real for us when we started finding arrowheads. At night you could always hear an owl screech or the scream of a black panther. They both can sound like a woman screaming, and at times it would scare the bejeezus out of me. The story I am about to tell, I will admit, that I don't remember.
I will tell it to you as my mom told it to me.
When we moved "out to the country", we purchased land with some of my parent's friends, so we weren't the only ones out cleaning and working. One day, my mom saw a fire in a wooded area a little ways away. She said that it looked like only the top of the tree was burning. It was a pine tree used for lumbering, so the top was a good ways off. She decided to go check it out, and we started walking with some of our neighbors. We got out to where it looked like the tree was, but could no longer smell smoke and we didn't see anything burning. We didn't even see anything that ever had been burnt.
It was a clear day - no lightening. I am sure that people can say the burning wasn't in the place we thought it was, or that it was just some crazy reflection, but I prefer to think it was something else. Maybe, it was a welcoming, or a warning, from the native spirits of the land. Whatever it was, it still remains a mystery.
Do you have any mysterious true stories? Please leave them in the comments!