Our Stay In Flowery Branch, Georgia

Our stay in Flowery Branch, Georgia, was simply too brief. Our reunion with Kindred is a strong and glad reunion. Yet, I felt and feel sadly today that so much of some things were touched. So very much was right there and I sensed that it was as if time was running against us. With a quickness too! Whether it be by word  or Not-The-Word. Via communications by Spirit connection. Body language and by seeing and reading the aura's. We are connected. I feel it in my heart and in my brains at this very moment.

 Awesome, is the best I can describe our visit.! No wait, stupendously Awesome! - is much more like the description I would share. I even fell too much in love with Cujo and Alfie, two of their four gorgeous lap dogs. So petite and so beautiful them all.

We were given a nice tour of the town by our quests. Had a fantastic ride about in an older, well kept Town Car. I mean, it was as if we were on a boat. Old School for sure! Saw the old Rail Road Depot. Looked at homes that are very affordable, some really exceptional homes too. We visited the lake where much fishing is done in season. It was painful to see that Florida is not the only state to suffer from this years long drought. The lake is smaller than usual and I observed dry wetlands through out Georgia. We ate that fantastic Mexican meal and had a wonderful time.

The history of this beautiful town is immersed richly in our Southern History. I could feel the energy's of Them-Who-Came-Before-Me. Seemed as if my DNA was having extraordinary reminding's of the Kinfolk who lived in and around the area. Both the Indian and the White Kinfolk...

...going back multi-generation's. On both the Indian and the White.

While touring here in Flowery Branch, I was able to see and with every Spirit and every cell with-in me, felt a connection to this very small cemetery we happened by. It was under bare Wintered tree's where my eye orbs see and saw where a Mr. White Master Man, who's name I do not really remember, laid to rest is Kinfolk and Kindred...

...and his Mr. White Master Man's slave's. This piece of this towns history was harsh to my one good ear and implant to listen to. And listened to absorb. The visit had turned into more than a Reunion, it became something of a lesson from which to learn something I had NEVER ever  KNOWN or thought of.  How Mr. Master White Man took care of his Kindred and how Kinfolks were buried with their monuments and or head stones...

...while Mr. Master White Man, was inclined not to do this with his Slaves. The Slave burials were either acknowledged by a single turned upright stone with not even a name or note. While other Slave burial sites were and remain unmarked. Meaning nothing. Blank and blankness for the Black Human Spirit's, our fellow Mother Earth Being's.

My Great Spirit has locked this into my Heart. I have not, nor will I be permitted to shake this off. I feel this in my heart for a reason. To learn more about the place I felt the "Wall". To learn more about this place of sorrow.

I hope my very best right good friend might offer me her aid. Please?

Georgia runs through my veins as it did my Kinfolk who lived here. Kinfolk by the generation's. Things happened here that created a bad name for my Kinfolks. Their home's and their land. There is an eagerness that motivates me to search and to seek more knowledge not only about this place of sorrow, but to learn more about Them-Who-Came-Before-Me.

I am knowing in my Soul, that this is how the Indian in my blood would have been buried by Mr. Master White Man. In battle, something in me knows that where an Indian was shot and killed - that was where He or She became a part of Mother Earth. If the Indian in my blood fought and died with out Kinfolk near by or was a distance from home, that was where He or She became one with the Mother Earth. I feel it in my teeth and know this on my face behind the flesh. Thus, I know this already, you see...

...this was the way's of Mr. White Master Man. This will take time to wrap about my brain's. I am still dealing with what I saw and listened to.

My God.

P.S. Up the road a piece there is a town named Wiley. I wonder...

..."?".

No more to say.