03/06/2026
Behind me is the crash site, marked by a large rock that you can’t see in the picture. Where I feel spirits the most is in the surrounding woods. At the memorial’s overlook I have a view of the surrounding landscape. I watch ghostly grey mists rise in the woods—billows of wispy smoke that crawl amongst the trees then disappear. I’m unable to capture the mysterious wisps. Instead, I bear witness to those who have left the body, in quiet contemplation of the tragic events that led to their passing. It’s peaceful here. The wisps no longer rise and I make my way back to my car.