Yesterday I took the kids and the dog to Belle Isle to watch the rain melt away the snow along the road that runs past the abandoned zoo. I told my ghost/zombie-obsessed daughter that I'd once heard that there was a ghost in these woods: an Indian maiden dressed all in white who would walk out of the woods and beckon for you to follow her if you turned off your car and honked the horn three times. Then I turned off the car and honked three times.

For once there was silence from the back seat while we watched the quiet woods.

A girl was murdered in these woods not so long ago by her friends in the middle of the night when they were out here hunting this legendary ghost. They sat on her until her lungs filled with mud. I didn't tell my kid that story.

On the way home, we stopped at the city's oldest cemetery and looked for zombies. But only dancing ones.

[new Woodcraft later today tomorrow]