Yesterday was the first Weird Chicago ghost investigation (as opposed to tour) in a few months - we took about a dozen tourists out to a notoriously haunted cemetery in the middle of a forest preserve (the place we mention in the Weird Chicago podcast).
We didn't find anything weird, in particular, but the woods, with fresh snow covering every twig, were gorgeous. Walking down the narrow path was like being in an Ansel Adams wet dream. Even the pond looked nice - when it isn't frozen, it looks disgusting. Like just touching it could give a fellow dysentary. We did do some interesting forensic work on the spot in the cemetery where a rather famous ghost photograph was taken (measurements and other such dull things, though they showed, interestingly, that the "ghost" in the pic must have been remarkably short), but didn't really come across much of note.
The winter season, however, created a fun challenge - to get to the old well and remains of the foundation of a house (which were now flooded and frozen), one has to cross over a couple of wide streams in the woods. It's no trick in the summer, but the melted snow had caused the water level to rise at least a foot since last time we were there. Getting a dozen people across was quite a fun wilderness adventure.
It also led to an easy joke.
"All right, folks," I said. "We're now going to violate the first major rule of ghost busting. We're going to have to cross the streams."
So we did.
And that's why I still smell like marshmallows.