I wrote a piece for yourghoststories.com not very long ago detailing how I am able to see these little lights everywhere. I'm not going to go into it much since it's all here: http://www.yourghoststories.com/real-ghost-story.php?story=20163#comment. In summary, basically I can see points of energy in the form of small lights on living creatures and things whenever I'm allowed to see it (or more accurately, whenever I am not disallowed from seeing it).
Certainly, in the beginning this all seemed novel and I spent quite a bit of time watching these lights, trying to figure out how they work and what they mean, but I guess over the years I've gotten sort of used to the idea and it's been awhile since I've given it very much original thought. Really, I just happened on this website one evening and wished I had some awesome paranormal story to tell like everybody else seemed to have, and jumping around at my desk with my hand in the air, I hoped maybe my little story about lights would be vaguely interesting to someone for a couple of minutes. It was lovely to receive the feedback about it that I did, and what is more, the new perspectives allowed me to think about it again.
I mentioned before how my parents live in the middle of nowhere and how I will go and visit them, sometimes. I happen to currently be staying with them this month as a little vacation from Philadelphia (and this is probably why I was perusing the internet looking for fun things to do, like read ghost stories!)
After reading some of the comments from my last story, I decided to go outside and sit on the front porch in the dark late one evening, wondering if, in fact, I could train myself to see these lights for longer periods of time, as one commenter suggested was possible. It takes a little zen to get into the mind-frame where you can see them, and I'll admit I don't have as much time and relaxation on my hands as I did when I first started seeing them fifteen years ago. But after a minute or two, I began to watch the lights crop up around me. For instance, there was one that kept hanging out on a patch of grass across the road, winking over and over again, and I also got to see one on a bat! That was a new one for me.
Now, my parents have no less than six dogs, and I had brought my own dog from home with me to make seven. At night, they are all safely contained in a chainlink fence that encloses a rather large back yard (that is, the ones that don't get to sleep inside on pillows like tiny princesses). As I was sitting on the front porch, one of the dogs began to bark, which slowly set them all off over the next several minutes. And here I was, trying to be all bodhi and peaceful in my rocking chair watching these lights, calmly waiting for the dogs to sort themselves out and be quiet again. But they just kept going, getting louder and more agitated, and it was becoming clear to me that there was actually something wrong. And then I realized I was outside alone at night in the middle of nowhere.
I got up and walked around the house to the back yard where they were all lined up against the fence, facing off towards where the farm equipment is parked, as well as a little shed the horse used to live in. It was completely dark and I could see nothing past the fence. The only light outside at night is a metal halide that has been engulfed over the years by a maple, and it dimly lights the back yard but not much beyond it. I opened the gate and stepped inside the yard, because I have always felt much safer inside the fence from any creepy weirdness that might exist at night in nature, just because it's the Land of the Dogs, and thus is under their protection.
I had already started talking to the dogs, asking them what was wrong and what on earth they were looking at, but the squeak of the gate and my entrance finally helped to calm them all down. They disbanded, and I sat down on a bench by the gate peering as hard as I could off towards the farm equipment. My own little dog was the only one who kept sitting by the fence, guarding me. It's a hobby of his. He doesn't like me to settle anywhere unless he can be between me and the door, for instance, and he always sleeps at the foot of my bed. Anyway, he kept starring at the darkness, and every now and again, his hackles would go up and he would give a few warning barks. Finally, I got up and walked over to him by the fence, trying to see what he was seeing.
And oh my goodness, I saw it. For about ten seconds, very low to the ground, there was a green glow of light. It wasn't like the little points that I ordinarily see; this was more of a sphere, probably about two feet in diameter. It wasn't very bright, and I was only able to see it at all where it touched the surface of things, like the ground and where it brushed the back wheel of my car. The area where the farm equipment is parked is sort large and hodge-podge, and I'd been parking my car each time in a slightly new spot. Just wherever it shuffled in the best that day. Prior to seeing the green glow, I couldn't even recall exactly where I had last parked my car and I certainly couldn't see it in the dark, but the light was bright enough it even reflected off the metal above the bumper, and also off the license plate and I could see my car quite clearly. Then the light went out again, and my dog stopped barking.
Well, now that I knew what the fuss was about, I went back to sit on my bench to think about this. Every few minutes or so, my little dog would bark, and then he'd go quiet again and sit back down. And I began to pray, I guess you could call it. Just talking in my head, since I was having a pretty spiritual night anyway, asking that any bad mojo in the vicinity go away while telling good energy that it was always welcome.
I don't know if it worked, but the green glow didn't immediately leave. I turned to watch the dark again, and this time, saw the green sphere rolling across the field about twenty feet from my car through the grass. I decided it probably wasn't malevolent, but it was interesting that it seemed to be curious about my car in particular at a time when I had opened myself up to night-time oddities. Also, curious to note was that my dog only seemed to be able to see the green glow whenever I was looking in that direction, even though my dog had his back turned towards me and wasn't paying attention to me at all. (The fence where my dog was and the bench by the gate are about twenty feet apart.) It was as if this thing wanted me to be able to see it, and would show itself whenever I was attempting to look at it.