Ghost Whispers |
Most of the images on this page were taken in or near Milledgeville, Georgia. Unless you're a family researcher with roots that go back to America's early expanding frontier, this name is probably unfamiliar to you. But it was from this town, then the capital of Georgia, that passports to the Indian Nations and points West were issued to citizens from various states who had business in or beyond the Creek or Cherokee Nations or the Spanish Provinces or wanted to settle there. The passports were issued between 1785-1820 and were necessary because only people who could persuade the governor of Georgia that they were of good character were allowed to travel to the Western territories. These photographs would be hauntingly beautiful no matter where they were taken, but I can hear the whispers of the ghosts of these abandoned places more clearly, knowing how many early pioneers walked this land, heading for a new life in a part of the country that was to them a new world - especially since the ghosts parading through this particular landscape could be some of my own ancestors, as they set out on their grand adventure, moving west. -- Nancy |
The past is never dead. It's not even the past. -- William Faulkner |
I know the laughter and the pain Of times that will not come again. -- Sara Teasdale |
They are all gone into the world of light, and I alone sit lingering here; Their very memory is fair and bright, and my sad thoughts do cheer. -- Henry Vaughan |
Every man's memory is his personal literature. -- Aldous Huxley |
Your safe boundaries were once unknown frontiers. -- Unknown |
Footfalls echo in the memory Down a path which we did not take, Towards a door we never opened. -- T. S. Eliot |
Do not go where the path may lead, go instead where there is no path and leave a trail. -- Ralph Waldo Emerson |
Ethereal whispers, Persuasive, soft and still, "Daughter, if you don't remember us... ...who will?" -- Dot Stutter |
What you need to know about the past is that no matter what has happened, it has all worked together to bring you to this very moment. And this is the moment you can choose to make everything new. -- Unknown |
Are you a stranger without even a name, Enclosed and forgotten behind the glass frame, In an old photograph, torn and battered and stained And faded to yellow in a brown leather frame? -- Eric Bogie |
It's one of nature's more curious ways that we often feel closer to distant generations than to the generation immediately preceding us. -- Igor Stravinsky |
Music: Lorena Friday's Journal Whispers - Home Old New Orleans |
Photo Credits: Flickr Creative Commons: evan leavitt; greyhawk68 |
The link to this page is: http://www.thepastwhispers.com/Whispers.html |