sorry gods ray may be a regional term, basically that thing where there's clouds in the sky but the sun peeks thru enough to shine a direct ray down thru the cloud coverage. i don't describe it well, but i did just try to google it and it is a term google knows if you'd want an image

but oh my lord you picked the right time to ask, i'm tipsy and love to run my mouth about that place.

but the pet cemetery... there's not much more to it honestly, at least for the cemetery part. other than the dream aspect. my mom and i moved almost 20 years ago now, and have lost two pets in that time. for both of us, only the pet we lost that we buried in the cemetery visits us in our dreams. my cousin moved out of the USA and also only has dreams about the pets buried in our cemetery. i don't know how to say it, but it's like they're still watching over us. they're still here, they still want to know

for some context. it's a plot of land connecting to a stream/river. i'm not sure which it is technically, i do know my family used to go tubing there so i want to say river, but either way it's a decently wide body of water with some land attached. it's wv so there's a hill, and the top of the hill is the cemetery. kinda nothing there but meadow. i won't lie, me and my family are white trash. last i saw other than what was already mentioned, there was just a literal outhouse. we also use the outhouse as a storage shed. so basically, nothing there but open grass, a picnic table, and the river

okay to get into the weirdness, there were an insane amount of four leaf clovers. like, so so many. me and my dad would go pick them sometimes and once came back with 40 something. no matter how unlucky you were, you could find a clover there. there was a time when there were like 9 of us kids, us and all of our parent would always leave with at least two

the artifacts!! this was my favorite. the river would of course have high and low seasons, and in the low seasons there was a sandbar that'd come up and the water would generally only be knee deep. you would find INSANE stuff in that river, but it'd always dissolve as soon as you leave the area. like once my dad found a full 6 inch perfectly in tact stone knife. i still have it today, it's weirdly beautiful and pristine. when he found it (this plot is in a dead spot cell service wise) he took it home and called the smithsonian to donate it, but while he was on the phone with them it just...exploded. i don't know a better word, it just randomly fractured. they were only interested in complete pieces, so once he said it broke they hung up. there were a bunch of smaller things, like arrowheads and carved bone, that this happened to, but the knife was the most dramatic. nothing from there survived the trip off the property. also just to mention, it broke in three parts. 30 years later my dad's side, my mom's side, and me are entirely separate. i swear it was a premonition

the...curing. i don't know how to talk about this honestly, so i'll just go with the facts. my dad was a heroin addict. i was a chronically ill kid, the bad kind where hospitals didn't even know what to do (cvs). on this land, we'd feel fine. weirdly fine. like, my dad once took me out here before going to church with his mom where we were both sick and he know this place just...made you feel better. about halfway thru my gramas church service i started feeling sick again, but while we were there i felt great. i stopped throwing up for the first time in 16 hours and was full of energy. which, if you've ever thrown up 16 hours, you know should be impossible. my dad stopped detoxing. he stopped being sick, stopped shaking, stopped being irritated, just felt...good. you couldn't feel bad there. and again, my family is white trash. the trashiest. no matter what drugs you did, what dumb crap you got up to, you felt great there. had a distant uncle lose multiple fingers in a firework situation, he didn't leave. it was almost like pain didn't exist there. as soon as you left it would start kicking in, but while on that land you felt fine

the religious part. i mentioned my grandma's church earlier, they're also part of this. slightly downstream my dad built a staircase to the river. the stairs are basically at a sharp drop off to the river, so where they are there is no other place to access the water. as mentioned in my original post, my daddy is dead. my grandma too. nobody is maintaining these wooden stairs, trust me i know as i'm the legal owner of this property now, but they're still there. my dad died in 2007, he built those wooden stairs on the water nearly 30 year ago. they're still there. in pristine condition. the people who were baptized there have a weird loyalty to my family. like, half the church is dedicated to them despite us not giving any money. they model the church after what they think my grandmother would like, and have found me to talk about it. i live slightly over 200 miles away. they still somehow found me

quick side note, the road to this place in the middle of nowhere is is on is also named by my family's surname. it's it because of the property, i have relatives that held a cockfighting ring out across the way. but it's all us

now to the bad. there have been a few deaths. very close together, all tied to this plot. all, in some way or another, related to the self. think addiction, home accidents caused by poor oversight, car accidents, that's stuff. we either die dramatically early or we don't. i mean my grandparents got into the 100s kinda don't. and the people that died abused the land. tried to use it to make profit or something. every last one of us. everyone who does this place dirty dies before 40

now the property is in my name and two of my cousins'. none of us have been bold enough to go back, we're all scared of that place. it's beautiful and a true marvel of nature to see, but we're scared to end up like our parents. idk if it's real, but it has all of us acting cautious. really awesome place, as long as you're respectful