bird72
06-12-2011, 06:24 AM
I wrote this a couple of weeks ago. It really happened as I wrote. Hoping some may enjoy. It was an interesting experience to say the least.
The Meadow of Sadness
I was in the back truck by myself, following the other rig with the power company guy and the local property owner of the land before this parcel we were now entering. He was showing us how the utility lines ran back to “the old chicken farm”. I was out to look at my part, the old phone lines, and the real need was the electric cable was dying with outages. Riding alone in silence I take in the area. The area we had just left, where the one fellow owned a nice forest retreat home, was in a clump of few acre parcels surrounding a large marsh wetlands in the middle of the woods, chalet style homes of people retiring nicely. This area is just south of a lake. A very private scenic back road place, with the Rockies to the north and east.
This back parcel was large acreage, and a winding, not really used in years two track drive meandered through the woods with no visible end goal in sight. I rode looking around. There was an odd feel to things. The road was not really used, not a driveway. No indicators of life ahead, no name sign, or anything. Just the woods. So a half mile back maybe, the truck ahead slows. To my left is a large livestock building, one hundred fifty feet long maybe. Grass growing up to the sides and entrances… no human walking to that place in many years. Just the beginning of nature wanting to take over.
To the right of that was a large rectangular, what? House? No, I believe it was a business building, again, no sign of life, nor evidence people being around for a long time. Both buildings were interesting, very heavy beam and square hewn log construction. All beefy and overbuilt and a lot of time, effort, and log work went into all that. Looked site sawmill type deal, from the trees cleared no doubt. The place had a very odd, frozen in time look. So the chicken building could have had a few for sure I thought as we drove around to the back pasture…. Lo and behold, two more of these large chicken buildings, same massive beam and log type, and they were not really together, so there was three separate buildings fanned out, must have been one noisy bunch of chickens with that big an operation. Same deserted for years look. The woods back there had a feel to them. Silence. No birds. No sound. A pale quiet. Yes, early winter seems like that at times, but this was one kind of odd place, with odd signs, and odd abandon and desertion obvious. So we finally all parked our trucks.
I got out, It seemed even stranger once I did. I felt like I was being watched. The local fellow then told the story of the place. For reasons of confidentiality I won’t say all. But the chicken farm had a story to back up it’s odd appearance. Two women moved to Montana it seems, in the eighties. Had some resources and a plan, and one huge dream I guess. Word is they got the bank to float a million bucks for the chicken farm and house. They actually got it going. It ran for a few months, before the county, neighbors, environmental types all waged war on the women. Lawsuits, wastewater requirements that cost huge money being required, and just a wall of obstacles did the women and their dream in. The bank lost humor with it, the papers were served after the chickens could no longer be sold, and the dream was lost.
I’m listening to all this and it all made sense. The Dream. That is what I saw there. The overdone log structures, it was part of the dream, the atmosphere was very important to these women. Spread out for visual appearance, A large meadow in the middle. It must have been a beautiful place, disregarding the racket of all those chickens.
So the gentleman continued with his recounting of events. He was there. He was a player, but that part needs unsaid. The women were served with eviction papers, it was over. I wondered if they were lovers. They were dear friends at the least. The place had a feel of a love invested. And it was over he said. So they went to the house, on the last day they could stay, and ended their lives. When he said that my skin crawled. It explained everything I was feeling. Something WAS really wrong out there. And he went on how they bulldozed the house down. Dug a big hole and buried it in it. That also seemed a very odd thing to do. Like they lynch mobbed them and had a burn in effigy party after.
I felt a sadness in that meadow, and an odd breeze in the treetops. They are still there, I thought. I walked out to my truck talking to that fellow, not wanting or needing to hear any more. I needed to leave. Halfway to my truck I sensed something and looked to my right. Five feet away down in the tall grass was a decent size buck, looked dead hours at most, perfectly healthy looking, now frozen, no visible injury, and as said, perfectly healthy looking. We both looked and said, “that is weird”. But it happens, so it can’t be looked at as anything more than a little reminder on the way out from the Meadow of Sadness. They should block that road and never allow anyone back there. But someone with money will buy the land, bulldoze the rest down, and build a mansion in the woods to use four weeks of the year as a retreat from the bustle of “SoCal“. They will put it in the only logical place, the spot on the rise, with the view to the lake up north. It will be right where the other house was. They may lay in their beds there and have odd dreams and wonder why.
Postscript: (written today)
Through a Theta session with a gifted person, I believe that this person inspired Creator to guide these womens spirits to where they need to go. They definitely were out there that day! Secondly, my purpose was to tell their story, sad as it is, as it has never really been told properly. I think that was somehow necessary. You reading it here is for the good of it all.
The Meadow of Sadness
I was in the back truck by myself, following the other rig with the power company guy and the local property owner of the land before this parcel we were now entering. He was showing us how the utility lines ran back to “the old chicken farm”. I was out to look at my part, the old phone lines, and the real need was the electric cable was dying with outages. Riding alone in silence I take in the area. The area we had just left, where the one fellow owned a nice forest retreat home, was in a clump of few acre parcels surrounding a large marsh wetlands in the middle of the woods, chalet style homes of people retiring nicely. This area is just south of a lake. A very private scenic back road place, with the Rockies to the north and east.
This back parcel was large acreage, and a winding, not really used in years two track drive meandered through the woods with no visible end goal in sight. I rode looking around. There was an odd feel to things. The road was not really used, not a driveway. No indicators of life ahead, no name sign, or anything. Just the woods. So a half mile back maybe, the truck ahead slows. To my left is a large livestock building, one hundred fifty feet long maybe. Grass growing up to the sides and entrances… no human walking to that place in many years. Just the beginning of nature wanting to take over.
To the right of that was a large rectangular, what? House? No, I believe it was a business building, again, no sign of life, nor evidence people being around for a long time. Both buildings were interesting, very heavy beam and square hewn log construction. All beefy and overbuilt and a lot of time, effort, and log work went into all that. Looked site sawmill type deal, from the trees cleared no doubt. The place had a very odd, frozen in time look. So the chicken building could have had a few for sure I thought as we drove around to the back pasture…. Lo and behold, two more of these large chicken buildings, same massive beam and log type, and they were not really together, so there was three separate buildings fanned out, must have been one noisy bunch of chickens with that big an operation. Same deserted for years look. The woods back there had a feel to them. Silence. No birds. No sound. A pale quiet. Yes, early winter seems like that at times, but this was one kind of odd place, with odd signs, and odd abandon and desertion obvious. So we finally all parked our trucks.
I got out, It seemed even stranger once I did. I felt like I was being watched. The local fellow then told the story of the place. For reasons of confidentiality I won’t say all. But the chicken farm had a story to back up it’s odd appearance. Two women moved to Montana it seems, in the eighties. Had some resources and a plan, and one huge dream I guess. Word is they got the bank to float a million bucks for the chicken farm and house. They actually got it going. It ran for a few months, before the county, neighbors, environmental types all waged war on the women. Lawsuits, wastewater requirements that cost huge money being required, and just a wall of obstacles did the women and their dream in. The bank lost humor with it, the papers were served after the chickens could no longer be sold, and the dream was lost.
I’m listening to all this and it all made sense. The Dream. That is what I saw there. The overdone log structures, it was part of the dream, the atmosphere was very important to these women. Spread out for visual appearance, A large meadow in the middle. It must have been a beautiful place, disregarding the racket of all those chickens.
So the gentleman continued with his recounting of events. He was there. He was a player, but that part needs unsaid. The women were served with eviction papers, it was over. I wondered if they were lovers. They were dear friends at the least. The place had a feel of a love invested. And it was over he said. So they went to the house, on the last day they could stay, and ended their lives. When he said that my skin crawled. It explained everything I was feeling. Something WAS really wrong out there. And he went on how they bulldozed the house down. Dug a big hole and buried it in it. That also seemed a very odd thing to do. Like they lynch mobbed them and had a burn in effigy party after.
I felt a sadness in that meadow, and an odd breeze in the treetops. They are still there, I thought. I walked out to my truck talking to that fellow, not wanting or needing to hear any more. I needed to leave. Halfway to my truck I sensed something and looked to my right. Five feet away down in the tall grass was a decent size buck, looked dead hours at most, perfectly healthy looking, now frozen, no visible injury, and as said, perfectly healthy looking. We both looked and said, “that is weird”. But it happens, so it can’t be looked at as anything more than a little reminder on the way out from the Meadow of Sadness. They should block that road and never allow anyone back there. But someone with money will buy the land, bulldoze the rest down, and build a mansion in the woods to use four weeks of the year as a retreat from the bustle of “SoCal“. They will put it in the only logical place, the spot on the rise, with the view to the lake up north. It will be right where the other house was. They may lay in their beds there and have odd dreams and wonder why.
Postscript: (written today)
Through a Theta session with a gifted person, I believe that this person inspired Creator to guide these womens spirits to where they need to go. They definitely were out there that day! Secondly, my purpose was to tell their story, sad as it is, as it has never really been told properly. I think that was somehow necessary. You reading it here is for the good of it all.