The Burwell House Mysteries- Part 8
Sparkling on top of the creek, the sun reflected a perfect light . As the leaves danced along the embankment I realized this was the creek that Ron and I were shown at the student union. We were told via a letter that crumpled before us, that a creek runs through it. The Gold color had permeated our souls that day. Our hearts felt at one with the universe. We had encountered so many supernatural occurrences because we had attracted that which we had been praying; asking for. We had envisioned it and it became manifest. Creating; experiencing the momentum of the power of attraction was exhilarating.
That semester in Social Psychology had taught us so much. After reading the book, "The Secret," it's message was clear: "one must always pray for the highest good of all." We promised each other we would always keep the highest intention in our hearts. We visualized the perfect internship and were guided to The Burwell House Bed & Breakfast. This would be our new home for the summer. We would both bunk in Victorian guest houses located on the Burwell estate.
"Intention set for the highest good is what we need to pray on daily. Everything you need in life is right in front of you. Seek out and set your intention on the highest good for all & Blessings will be abundant." Laura Rogers
I felt like a little girl, giddy with excitement as I waited for Ron to arrive. I couldn't help but think about the good times that lay ahead for us in our new adventure. Life opened up a door I never knew existed and I felt such gratitude in my soul. Swiftly skipping across the river, a rock flew in my view. Kneeling over me, ron softly kissed me. "Courtney, how long have you been here?" He gently pulled me up and held me in his arms. I could feel his warm breath as his lips sweetly explored my face. My long hair danced in the wind as we melted into one another.
Walking to Dunn Bros coffee shop was a delightful way to start our time in Minnetonka, Minnesota. It wasn't what I had expected. I had heard horror stories of the cruel frigid winters here but summer was something to behold. The plush green grass looked almost fake to me. We walked over the bridge that ran parallel to the Burwell estate. We stopped to gaze at the powerful churning waters below. A large tree branch hung over the raging river. Facing the Burwell House was a large wooden cross that seemed out of place here. Time had certainly made it's mark on the humble cross but it had a strange beauty to it. I snapped pictures of it since I had a fondness for any building or structure that held secrets of the past.
We found a perfect spot nestled in the front corner of the coffee shop. We could see out the large picture window and watched as people passed by. We each sat in a brown leather, over-sized chair. The aroma of fresh brewing coffee had us digging for change. "Hello, what can I get you two," asked the cashier as we held out our money. Her exhuberant personality was hard to miss. She was a brunette woman in her mid thirties. We sipped our coffee's and enjoyed our one hour before going back to the Burwell House for the internship training with Louis.
There was a group of men sitting to the right of us that were quite loud and talkative. They looked to be in their fifties. They were teasing us as they figured out we weren't locals. Ron and I found ourselves pulled into a conversation with them. They welcomed us to their town and started asking questions: Where are you from? Are you students? What school do you attend? How long are you staying? Have you ever been to Minnesota? We explained that we were interning all summer, across the street at the Burwell House Bed & Breakfast. The men stared at each other and there was an awkward pause. "Courtney, Ron uncomfortably stated, we really should be heading back for our meeting." "Your right, we better get going so we're not late for our first day. We politely said our goodbyes and walked out the front door of the coffee shop. As we walked back to the Burwell house, we talked about what the men weren't telling us. What is the mystery of the Burwell House?
Crossing the bridge as we headed back, Ron noticed something missing. "Courtney, where is the cross you photographed?" "It's right there," pointing to the direction of where the antiquated wooden cross stood. "It's gone?" "It Can't be, let's walk over to the other side and see if it fell in." Gasping, we realized this was happening for a reason. What did this mean? What was it that we were supposed to glean from this? Let's look at the pictures on your digital camera. As Ron and Courtney studied the digital camera in search of the wooden cross, the hair stood up on the back of their necks...
"The distance that the dead have gone
Does not at first appear --
Their coming back seems possible
For many an ardent year."
© 2011 Laura Rogers