The dirt was moist from the recent storm. Humidity almost 100 %. The second day of December and still no break from the ugly, wet heat of North Florida.
There was a large hole in the ground next to what appeared to be a shallow grave. Sent here on a tip, I took the shovel and started carefully moving the dirt to see what it may have hidden. Sweat started to roll down into my eyes, I wasn’t finding anything so decided to take a break and crouched down at the base of a large oak tree. Mosquitos buzzing in my ears.
It felt like something touched me on my back, I reached back to see if I was sitting that close to the tree, but the way I was leaning, there was at least a foot of space between us. I started to feel a little scared. Why am I out here all by myself, in the middle of the woods with mosquitoes and spiders and now something brushing up against me that I can’t see??…shit, fuck, piss as my ex-husband use to say.
So I decided to take my camera and look around at the scene. I may not be able to find a murder weapon, but I will try to find something to make my time out here worthwhile.
I stood in the middle of a, all beautiful big oaks. Virgin oaks I like to call these, not a drop of hanging from them. I find that so interesting since nearly everywhere else you look,nearly all the oak trees are covered in spanish moss. What makes this particular plot of land so unique (or polluted) that spanish moss chooses not to come here?
I tried listening to the trees, seeing if they would give any clues. Most of these trees would have been here back then. Two murders. One in 1977, the other in 1989. I was unsure of their connection, but I was certain these trees were standing here and would know something about both of them.
I sometimes feel trees are like elephants. Their memory would be picture like and solid, without ever forgetting. How to talk to the trees… I’m sure most people would think I was for thinking this way, even I think I am crazy. Crazy is not always a bad thing and I will continue to open my self to receiving anything that may help solve these murders.
As I continued to be quiet and listen, I started to feel sick to my stomach. I didn’t know if it was the heat or the length of time I crouched for (getting too old for that) or if the sickly feeling was a message I was receiving from the energy around me.
Very slowly I walked, observing.
A really beautiful, refreshing, cool breeze came across my face. Another coming. I looked down and stared at the ground, and saw a under the leaves. A very tiny bone. I took a stick and gently elevated the leaves. It was a tibia from something very small. Probably a baby rabbit. And then I saw the femur.
So I kept looking for more bones. I didn’t find anymore bones but I did noticed there was a lot of in this kind of circular pattern all around the final resting place of a tibia and a femur. I looked up. Imaging some type of bird, either an owl, hawk or crow had eaten their meal up there on a big branch.
Ahhh, one mystery solved, maybe the trees are talking to me.