Good morning, Rosslyn. At the risk of overstepping my admittedly amateur rank in the realms of archeology, parapsychology, and linguistics I’m asking a moment of forbearance as I try to connect ghosting and cropmarks (with a dip into semantic shift). As usual my brainstorm’s at best half baked. Actually, mostly still just a mess of ingredients scattered across the countertop ready for egg-cracking and pre-heating.
I woke up this morning, thinking about ghosts. The night before last Susan and I heard an unusual bump as we were winding down for bed. Vaguely above and southwest of our bed, a gentle thump. No, more of a pop crossed with bump. We both noticed it. She commented, broadly referencing the mysterious noises that an historic home makes. We weren’t spooked. We’re accustomed to these sounds much as we’re accustomed to Carley’s sleep sounds — sometimes a light snore or a whimper, occasionally the excited movement of feet dreaming of a good chase — or the sounds of wind in rigging. These mostly soothing sounds are the soundtrack of our life. And yet this morning something stayed with me, lingering like a phantom. Ghosting. Semantic shift. And cropmarks…
It struck me that you’ve been offering us hints and clues since the summer of 2006 about who and what came before use. And yet we’ve been quick to say that we’ve seen and heard no ghosts — to the surprise of some — during our nineteen years with you. No “Mrs. Ross haunting the halls (or windows) of Hickory Hill” and “Boo!” hauntings late at night.
Ghosting Unhaunted & Undaunted
Even we were a little surprised early on to encounter so little ghosting at a home that had certainly witnessed plenty of comings and goings across its two hundred years.
During the house tour, Dak (maybe seven or eight years old at the time), raced around exploring then boomeranging back to report on his findings and to ask questions. One of the intrigues that the young boy conveyed to us pertained to the possibility of ghosts, phantoms of Rosslyn’s forbears. Certainly, he half-asked-half-willed, there must be ghosts in this old house, right? There must be! His optimism was palpable.
The question of ghosts inhabiting Rosslyn arose periodically during the lengthy renovation. Contractors mostly, and their questions leaned closer to wary than enthusiastic. I don’t recall any ghostly reports, but I do recollect some surprise that hauntings were not happening. (Source: More to Say)
Perhaps not realizing that I’d already touched on this in July 30, 2023, I recapped both scenarios in March 29, 2024 by drawing upon an April 6, 2023 update. That’s a lot of dates, and they really don’t matter much except to foreshadow another sort of ghosting that I’ve come to recognize. It’s not always white sheets and vibrato voices!
Happenings still are not happening.
Shortly after purchasing Rosslyn in the summer of 2006 friends were touring the house with us when their young son blasted through a doorway.
“Do you think this house is haunted?!”
His optimism was palpable. He related in quick chronicle what he’d discovered during his solo inspection of the house. On the third floor, he assured us, there are hidden doors and secret passageways. Mystery and intrigue percolated in his proud delivery.
[…]
Shortly thereafter, multiple contractors assured us that the house was probably haunted. Two centuries of living (and, inevitably, at least some “expiring”) within these walls *must* have resulted in a few lingering spirits. Certainly Rosslyn was haunted, right? Right?! Again, a blend of dread and intrigue. But over the yearslong renovation, they gradually abandoned their soothsaying as uneventful days (and not a few evenings) dispelled their early convictions. Mystery anticipated; mystery dispelled. (Source: Does Mystery Make a House a Home?)
Same references point with a touch of narrative fluffing.
I recently revisited the question of ghosting after completing the icehouse rehabilitation and wondering how your earlier Rosslyn residents might react to the transformation. It was a playful post almost yearning for the reactions and insights of those who’ve come before us. But then as now I acknowledged that we’ve no phantoms lingering about with whom to inquire.
With history blurring and commingling with the present, do we ever witness another sort of spirited country life? Is Rosslyn haunted? Do we ever see or hear ghosts?!
Photographic evidence notwithstanding, Susan and I have never experienced a Rosslyn haunting. Yet. Perhaps soon. (The photos above are whimsical confections that I’ve made by merging snapshots inside and outside of the icehouse with ghostly images from Unsplash.) (Source: Spirited Country Life)
I’ve gotten a little carried away with ghosts that don’t exist. Returning to the topic at hand, I might just reiterate that I’m understanding another sort of ghosting lately. I’m realizing that vestiges and phantoms manifest not just in anthropomorphic guise, Rosslyn, and failure to acknowledge your ghosts has been a sort of linguistic misunderstanding.
I’m referring,in part at least, to the linguistic phenomenon known as semantic shift (or semantic change/drift/development/progression) in which a word’s meaning evolves over time. Take “ghosting”, for example, which once implied something literal and explicit: phantasmagoric encounters or experiences. The semantic shift for this term toward the technological described a residual image of the shadowy vestiges of an image on television or a digital screen after the original image was no longer visible. And today this term is often applied to a social/dating context referring to the abrupt termination of communication without warning or explanation.
But today’s post isn’t a linguistic lesson. (I did study linguistics approximately a hundred years ago as an undergraduate, but I’ll pretend to expertise.) That said, tracing this linguistic lineage is helpful, I think, as it connects the “bump in the night” to areas of especially dry lawn currently visible north of the house and east of the icehouse. Let me explain.
What Are Cropmarks?
The ghosting at play today proposes yet another semantic shift, this time in reference to archeological or architectural vestiges, often just barely visible. Unlike the lingering leftovers and hauntings of human lives, a property such as yours has other ways of harkening back in time. So many subtle signs and artifacts have revealed themselves to us over the years. Buried wallpaper. A doorway moved and removed. An ell added then removed. Another ell added and then modified.
It turns out that your grounds have offered us another connection to the past. And in some cases your grounds will offer future residents a connection to us. Let’s talk about cropmarks.
Cropmarks or crop marks are a means through which sub-surface archaeological, natural and recent features may be visible from the air or a vantage point on higher ground or a temporary platform. Such marks, along with parch marks, soil marks and frost marks, can reveal buried man-made structures that are not visible from the ground. (Source: Wikipedia)
Although most of your land is not cropped at present, grassy lawns are remarkably useful monocrops for highlighting the ground’s ghosts. And the drought like conditions we’ve been experiencing for weeks now are drawing especial attention to these cropmarks.
Cropmarks are the phenomenon where buried features affect the growth and ripening of crops growing above them. This creates colour and height differences in the crops, which we can record from the air and interpret to understand what survives beneath the soil. They can be created by geological features or human-made features and it’s up to archaeologists to examine patterns in the crops and decide what could be a sign of past human activity. (Source: Dig It!)
As you may imagine it the moisture or lack of moisture that helps us decipher these ground ghosts.
The key factor… is the amount of moisture retained within the soil. A lack of moisture – generally caused by a lack of rainfall before and during the growing season – can exaggerate the effects of greater or lesser soil depth, making archaeological (and natural) features easier to spot. Visibility varies considerably according to the nature of the soil and subsoil, with the better-draining soils on gravels or chalk, for instance, more likely to produce cropmarks than clay soils, which tend to be better at retaining moisture. (Source: Historic England)
I’d hoped to get some current drone images to help illustrate a pair of cropmarks that intrigue me. But alas snapshots from my phone will have to do for now.
It’s worth noting that George McNulty, the previous homeowner, had documented the cropmark in the front lawn in his notes. But I see now, reviewing his notes, that he perceived a rectilinear mark whereas it’s very much a circle in my impression. Different cropmarks? Perhaps he was documenting the stone cistern that we unearthed when replanting the evergreen hedge?
What do you think?