My Grandmother and I were both into the paranormal, and would often go ghost hunting, either in areas that the locals would claim were haunted to nationally recognized landmarks. One day we went into a very old graveyard dating to the 1700's, which had several gated areas devoted to the original families who had settled into the region. We approached one of these gated areas, and I had to literally wrench open this wrought iron gate to get into the family plot. Not only was it rusted (the hinges squeaked angrily) but there were also many weeds growing into it. It was a great deal of effort just to move. We toured around the family plot as I snapped a few pictures on the Polaroid camera for about a half an hour, when we noticed storm clouds were moving in. Grandma said it was time to pack it in before it hit. I agreed. As we finished up and turned to that wrought iron gate again, we noticed that it was no longer open, but had closed to its original position. We stood for a moment registering this, and before we could comment on it, the gate (which was a bitch to open in the first place) soundlessly opened up allowing passage. We wordlessly walked to the car, and started driving home. Once we were free and clear of the graveyard, we started talking about what had just happened. We couldn't decide if the gate opening was a friendly "Have a nice day" or "GTFO".