Happy Halloween

All houses wherein men have lived and died

Are haunted houses. Through the open doors

The harmless phantoms on their errands glide,

With feet that make no sound upon the floors.

We meet them at the doorway, on the stair,

Along the passages they come and go,

Impalpable impressions on the air,

A sense of something moving to and fro.

There are more guests at table, than the hosts

Invited; the illuminated hall

Is thronged with quiet, inoffensive ghosts,

As silent as the pictures on the wall.

The stranger at my fireside cannot see
The form I see, nor hear the sounds I hear;
He but perceives what is;while unto me
All that has been is visible and clear...

From "Haunted Houses"

by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

A Methow Valley house with stories to tell.