A Place for Fairies and Fantasy

Over hill, over dale, through bush, through brier, over park, over pale, through flood, through fire, we do wander everywhere, swifter than the moon's sphere; and we serve the fairy queen, to dew her orbs upon the green.

after William Shakespeare from A Midsummer Night's Dream

Joy, Eva, Paddy, and Gran have discovered the Fairy House in “The Forest” at Merry Mount. The Forest is a cluster of spruce trees that is located on the South/West corner of the property. It is an enchanted place and is one of the delights of Merry Mount.

If one believes, one can hear the flapping of fairy wings as one enters the forest through the arbor that faces the North/East. Several birds live in the forest and act as sentinels for the fairies that have taken over a butterfly house centered in the forest, and occasionally the fairies leave notes for us mortals.

We came to The Forest,

To see what we could see.

There was a slender house there,

Whose home could it be?

Suddenly we saw a fairy there,

Her wings were of gossamer gold.

She landed upon the rooftop,

And whispered, “Do as you are told.”

She asked us for a penny,

We offered her a dime.

She said, “Oh, how generous,

I’ll give you back much time.”

We gleefully left The Forest,

Remembering what she said,

Decades now have come and gone,

Much happiness have we had!

CPW

On special occasions, a fairy even enters the farmhouse and visits Yussi, our canary, and encourages him to sing us a magical tune. As the trills reach our ears, an enchanting phenomenon occurs, and our spirits are uplifted with joyous wonder.

On special summer nights, under the full moon, one may also get a glimpse of garden fairies gathered near the vegetable blooms.

Fairies in the Garden

The garden brings the fairies, you will never know the hour.

The sun may just be peeping past the apple tree in flower.

See them? No! But I discern pixie clues they leave behind:

the fragrant thyme they danced upon . . . I am always sure to find

a dewdrop mirror clinging to a blossom hanging low;

I hear their tinkling laughter when the breezes softly blow. Sometimes I think I spy them riding on a firefly's back

at dusk above the garden, but their pathway's hard to track.

Jumping off, hiding themselves in moss blankets--soft delights-- their flying steeds unharnessed. "Go to sleep, my garden sprites."

Copyright, 5/1/2014 Faye Gibson

May your Summer be filled with fun and fantasy!

CPW