Wanderlights

WANDERLIGHT

CRANBERRY TOWNSHIP, PA 1996

Wanderlights are atmospheric ghost lights seen by travelers at night, often in swamps, but some reports are also speaking of wanderlight-sightings on graveyards. It looks like a low hovering orb of light. It is known to recede when approached, leading the travelers from safe paths. There are many other names for wanderlights, including: Ignis fatuus (medieval latin for foolish fire), will-o'-the-wisp, hinkypunk and many more.

The term "wanderlight" comes from the Dutch word "dwaallicht", in which dwaal /dʋaːl/ means wander, and licht /lɪxt/ means light.

The term "will-o'-the-wisp" comes from "wisp", a bundle of sticks or paper sometimes used as a torch, and the name "Will": thus, "Will-of-the-torch". The term jack-o'-lantern "Jack of [the] lantern" has a similar meaning.

In the United States, they are often called "spook-lights", "ghost-lights", or "orbs" by folklorists and paranormal enthusiasts.

Folk belief attributes the phenomenon to fairies or elemental spirits, explicitly in the term "hobby lanterns" found in the 19th century Denham Tracts. Briggs' A Dictionary of Fairies provides an extensive list of other names for the same phenomenon, though the place where they are observed (graveyard, bogs, etc.) influences the naming considerably. When observed on graveyards, they are known as "ghost candles", also a term from the Denham Tracts.

The names will-o'-the-wisp and jack-o'-lantern are explained in etiological folk-tales, recorded in many variant forms in Ireland, Scotland, England, Wales, Appalachia, and Newfoundland. In these tales, protagonists named either Will or Jack are doomed to haunt the marshes with a light for some misdeed.

In 1996, while in the woods near their house, I was in a place we had named "the Place That's Magic". It was a charming glen nestled beside a hill with thorn bushes at its peak and under a canopy of deciduous trees with soft grasses and clover as its carpeting.

Naming it The Place That’s Magic may have b e e n a f a n c i f u l

appellation that comes easily to youth in love, but it turns out to have been more than just teenage dream stuff. That day, in the crisp autumn air, Helen and I

were engaged with each other on the canopy floor when we both happen to look up into

the tree tops. There, about 15 to-20 feet ft up and away and among the b r a n c h e s , w a s a distinctive glowing. It was not like the branches themselves were glowing

or suddenly emitting light. It was like there was a brilliant and bright presence of light. Like the light had substance. Like the light had a physicality to it but was t r a n s l u c e n t w i t h a s o f t n e s s a b o u t t h e edges...yet it was hard to find the edges. I would like to say that it was round, but I have no idea that it truly was. It was instead defined by what it illuminated, mostly branches and leaves above us.

Something about it was entirely arresting. Helen and I both became still and as quiet as rabbits who have heard the bark of a dog. Then, suddenly, it was gone. I somehow had the presence of mind to, after staring at it, quickly blink and shut my eyes. There was then the tell-tale patina on my

retinas, as one gets when you close your eyes after looking at a bright light. My eyes themselves had definitely seen the Fortean glow.

“Did you just see...?”, whispered Helen.

“Yes,”, I responded breathlessly.

“W e s h o u l d g o , .”, advised Helen.

So, wordlessly, we collected ourselves and our things and we left.