Halloween in the Nature Center (Something is Out There)
🎃 Happy Halloween, blog friends. 🎃
Ember here. If you’ve been reading these posts, you probably already know I was nervous about the “Spooktacular” party being held in the Nature Center at night. Well… it happened. It was fun. And then it wasn’t.
Candy, Costumes, and Creepy Vibes
The night started great. Sami went as a zombie birder (he had binoculars and ketchup). Eva was a haunted owl (we glued feathers to her hoodie). I wore my homemade blue heron costume—DIY beak, paper wings, and everything.
The Nature Center was lit up with solar lanterns and fake cobwebs. There were candy buckets hidden in tree stumps, a costume parade through the Oak Loop, and a game where you guessed bird calls in the dark. (I got 6 out of 7. Whoever made the “wood thrush” sound used the wrong pitch, but whatever.)
Kids were running around. Parents were drinking cider from compostable cups. Everything felt normal.
Until it didn’t.
The Lights Flickered
Around 7:45, the lanterns flickered. Then one by the amphitheater went out completely. You could hear it—like it popped. No one screamed, but a couple younger kids grabbed their grownups.
A minute later, we heard a sound.
Not from a speaker. Not from a person. Not from this century.
It was a low, hollow whoosh. Like wings—but too big for any bird. It circled once above the trees. My whole body went still. Every hair on my arms stood up.
I looked at Eva.
She looked at me.
Sami whispered, “You hear that, right?”
Then we all saw it.
The Ghost Appears
Above the far end of the pond, near the heron statue, a shape flickered in and out of view. It was glowing just slightly—like moonlight trapped inside fog.
It wasn’t a costume.
It was tall. Birdlike. Draped in what looked like wet moss and shadow. No legs. Just… floating. Watching.
And its head turned—slowly—toward us.
Everyone Else?
Here’s the weird part: nobody else noticed.
The little kids were bobbing for apples. The parents were laughing at some dad dressed as a minion. Even the PTA photographer didn’t react. Like the ghost was visible only to us.
Or maybe it chose us.
What It Did
It didn’t move closer. It just hovered—by the pond, over the reeds that are supposed to be protected. The place where the first construction markers were spotted. It raised one arm—wing?—and pointed toward the ground.
And then it vanished.
Like vanished. No flash. No scream. Just gone.
What I Think Now
- The ghost is real.
- It’s angry.
- It’s watching the Nature Center get slowly erased, and it wants someone to do something.
And apparently… that someone is us.
What’s Next
We’re meeting tomorrow morning (Sami’s mom is bringing bagels). We’re going to try and figure out what exactly the ghost was pointing at—and what it wants from us.
This isn’t just about birds anymore.
Stay alert. Stay loud. And maybe stay out of the pond.
✌️ Ember