Some people believe that Louisiana is full of ghosts. I can't say for sure, but I certainly wouldn't outright disagree.
It's my guess a lot of these old souls just don't know where else to go once their clock's up. Personally speaking, out in these deep, deep woods and bayous, the rest of the world quickly gets to feeling like it's a million miles away.

There's a language here, a song, a supper... that just doesn't exist anywhere else. Besides which, there are so many things you have to learn-- like who's got the deed to the old Wilke's place, and who's having an affair with the sheriff's married son, and why that young family from Shreveport never steps foot outside before dusk. Maybe these aren't broadly appreciated facts; maybe not pieces of conversation exchanged at the royal wedding or what-have-you. But, locally, these scraps of information are stock knowledge...and it's a lot to keep in one head. Hell, it can become a challenge remembering certain other counties exist (ok, parishes), let alone countries. So, sure, I suppose a dying body might not know what other directions to offer its departing soul after a lifetime of étouffée and crawdads, fais do-do this and chootem dat.

Or, maybe we're all just spinning tales out here because we're imaginative and a little bored.

Alas, ma chère, it is what it is and it is where I am. Back in the homeland for a moment. Things move slowly and people like to talk a lot about not too much. Why, just this Monday, one old-timer sat beside me and pontificated on a riverside veranda whilst sipping a long-strawed bourbon and coke that perhaps folks move and talk in such a leisurely fashion down here due to the often suffocating heat index... and further suggested that would we move any faster or get to our points any sooner, stroke and heart attack victims would shortly be taxing the public welfare system.

What could I do? I'm slowing my roll. I'm not waking early and getting things done; but I'm not being unproductive. I'm enjoying my dreams, daydreams, and downtime. I'm sipping the coffee so slowly it's getting cold halfway down. Yesterday I had the best lake-swim with a very dear friend. The sun kindly took it's time and made a real show of its setting.

There are spotted dogs in a pin in the back. I leave the fan on over my bed. I can see my climbing tree through the window of my bedroom, but I can no longer see its top. I have a date with some wild horses and a friend with a convertible. The night air is vibrating with crickets and their rowdy friends. My little cousins are fast asleep and I'm thankful they'll have one more little memory with me in it.

I love a lot of people here, and I wish I could be around them more...
But, my lord, Louisiana... I can only handle this pace for a little longer, and then I gotta stretch my legs again!
Ya'll don't want my ghost hanging around, playing tricks on you anyway, do you now?