Okay, so the way my grandparent's property is situated is unique. They own thirteen acres, divided in half by a ridge we call Madelina. Our house is on the Eastern slopes of Madelina.

Round the whole of the property goes the traintracks, and on our side of Madelina Ridge, the tracks form almost a perfect circle around us. A circle of Iron that myself and the family have come to understand as being protective. Down the driveway, and across the tracks, is High Field. High Field is a quaint field where we pick blackberries when they are ripe. On the southern edge of High Field, the mountain ridge begins again, rising some 20 yards into the sky quite dramatically. Atop this seeming hill is an old cemetery, dotted with three or four rows of some two dozen unmarked graves. The graves are very old indeed, and we think they are the graves of slaves and or workers who were killed making the railroad in the 1880's or 1890's (I've never been really good at history). You see, a lot of people and children workers were killed making the tracks here, because it was some of the first experiences using dynamite to blast away whole mountain sides to make flat ground for the train. Many people were killed in mixing explosives and detinating the explosives, so long ago there was quite a bit of death round here.

That's a brief history of the lay of my land.

Now, lately I've been having some strange dreams. Whenever I'm dreaming, and my dream adventures are about being on this land and learning things about it, I always hold them significant. I could easily be dreaming of being somewhere else doing some other things, but I'm not, I'm on my own property. A night ago, I dreamed of my grandfather being so wrought with self pity and depression that he was trying to kill himself by means of the train. He lay weeping, with his head bent over the tracks, waiting for it to come. I wrapped my arms around him and comforted him, saying that I wanted him in my life , so he couldn't kill himself. In the dream, he was sitting on the other side of the tracks, facing in towards our house. Is this significant?

 

Last night, I had a disturbing dream. I'm a sensitive person, whose had experiences with voices and shadow beings since I was two years old. I've never felt comfortable on the other side of the tracks. It's not that I don't have respect for the dead, I do. I come from Florida where the cemeteries are nice and peaceful. I used to sit in them for comfort. This one just doesn't feel peaceful, and I always feel eyes on me as I walk through the woods out there.  

In my dream, I had uprooted a Datura Stramonium plant, a young one, and transplanted it at High Field where a large stone lay on the ground. I figured this might protect it from mowers. Once set in the ground nicely, I walked over to the Rue bush and picked a sprig of it. I've always felt a gentle connection to my Rue plants. After picking the sprig, my cousin and his girlfriend come out of nowhere, and their focus is aimed at the graveyard hill. My sister comes out of nowhere as well. Jahsh, my cousin, sets up a computer of sorts. He's into paranormal investigating, so this is not new for him.He points out at the slope of the hill that it looks like a little girl sitting and holding her knees beneath a Rhodedendron bush. It does indeed appear to be so, but I'm skeptical because of my fear. 

His girlfriend runs as fast as she can up to where the little girl is sitting, and nothing moves. Evedently it was just a trick of the trees, for no little girl sat there. When she's coming back, though, I see misty white whirlwinds begin to dance on the hill. They sweep past where the little girl was, and circle the top of the hill. At this point I'm scared, and think that maybe these whirlwinds are a cause of the hills position in these surrounding Blue Ridge Mountains. Maybe it's the wind causing some freakish sights. I go to the computer and look at the screen, and words begin to type from nowhere. With them, a man's voice begins speaking. I can't understand it. I tell them it's time to go. 

We pack up, all the while the misty whirlwinds dancing round the graveyard hill, and start heading back. As we're stepping over the traintracks and going back home, I say "That's why I never liked those side of the tracks."

I wake up. I pour my morning coffee and walk with my cat and dog out to where the whole thing happened in High Field. No dancing mists, but I do have a chill up my spine. It never goes away until I walk back across the tracks. Now I type this because I'm at a loss. Does anyone have an opinion on my experiences here with a haunted side of the traintracks? Lol, perhaps I'm crazy and I shouldn't think about it. 

 

Blessed be. 

Hmm... theres no denying that the tracks and the graveyard hold a strong resonance with you and why shouldn't they? For the first dream this could simply be your mind analysing concepts of finality and journeying or could be an empathic awareness of your granddad, I presume he is still alive or are you concerned he might be in visitation in the dream? If its the latter perhaps preparing a meal or some votive to remember him by a sign that the living still remember him fondly? If he's still with us (God willing) perhaps spend some time with him looking into the history of the property and the surrounding area?

One of the things I'm becoming acutely aware of is the impulse both mundanely and magically to tell stories and all places have their stories from people around them and it sounds like these dreams might be either a stirring from within or from the genii loci to get to know the story of the land. Since you work with it so much and it shows knowing all the plants and such perhaps some of those plants can be used in a tea or tincture? I'm not very good with herbs so if consuming any consult a trained herbalist. I don't think you're crazy but I always advise and remind people a healthy dose of skepticism is always a good thing so even if you exhaust all mundane and magical means perhaps simply trying not to deal. I would also say though before heading to the graveyard be considerate that if there is a history of enslavement and lose of life for the building of the tracks then these aren't likely to be very enthusiastic spirits at receiving your attention. Theres nothing wrong with affirming your space and respecting theres but if thats its history its not a joyfilled one like other graveyards or cemeteries (so not my experiences always feel like being watched so usually hurry to the grandparents plot or family member in question).

 Well, my grandfather is still with us, though he's been under a lot of stress lately, as I think a lot of people have been given the economic state of things. And, as far as the genii loci are concerned, I've had a bunch of dreams about the history of our side of the train tracks. For a while there, when I first moved in, I always dreamed that there was a family of African American's in the lower land by the creek. See, the railroad blockade that separates out little valley from the rest of the world used to be trellaces. Is that the right word? Trellaces being giant bridges through the sky for the train to travel on that go from mountain to mountain. These gigantic wooden structures were then filled in utterly and completely to form these great walls round the property, topped with the train tracks. 

I digress. There's simply a lot of history here, and as far as the black family who always hides and doesn't want to be found, well, there's a lot of vacancy in the time between tenets at this house for there to be much goings on. Though, with the other side of the tracks, I've never dreamed of anything before now.

Where the tracks meet our driveway, I consider it a crossroads, and have always held moon celebrations there, and reserved that space for subtle contact with the spiritual world. If you could stand there, I'm sure you'd feel it's potency as well. One night, around 1 am when the moon was bright, My cat and I spotted a white shape coming from the backside of the field from the graveyard. I disregarded it at first, but then as I progressed in my personal celebration, it got ever more close. The proximity to myself, and its size were out of proportion to be a deer, which was my initial thought, and as it drew closer and closer, a fear overcame me. It was shapeless and pale under the moon, so I opened up everything, grabbed my cat, and we high tailed it back home, never looking back.

I'm sure I might have missed out on a genuine moment of spiritual contact, but as you'll come to find out I'm a little skiddish when it comes to foreign entities getting too near my body and working space. I've had many scary experiences with shadowy silouettes to be so trusting to every ghost or shadow that comes  meandering up to me. Suppose I should work on this fear? 

I don't know where I'm going now, rambling is what I do best. I suppose the conclusion of this response is to tell that I've had waking world contact with the ghosts of the graveyard, and that I have come to learn stories [albeit shrouded in mystery] about my property. 

Secondly, Datura Stramonium is a powerful hallucinogen and Rue (Ruta graveolins) is a contraceptive for females, so I doubt how it would fair for me. I think I'll take the placement of them in my dreams for their symbology rather than their medicine.