Monday, October 27, 2014


On our Adventure walks, we’re always on the lookout for Fairy houses and activities, and so when we spotted this tall thin door into a tree, we realized we’d happened on a treasure:  these secret doors slide silently back, revealing a perfectly wonderful scene---the many, many tiers of a Fairy School, its vast heights providing high halls in which the little flightlings practice their takeoffs and landings, their swoops and swirls.

The inside is one great chamber of towering ledges, some of each kind of surface from which a fledgling flyer might be expected to have to use for takeoff:  Grassy plains, with soft landings and gentle errors, til the little wings catch  their wind;  tree limbs and lacy bushes and crannies in the rock, as well as stony ledges over great chasms, as the little ones grow in verve and skill.   There’s even a water-ledge, its surges held magically from the overflow, each drop hanging precipitously yet never falling onto the balconies below, as the tiny mer-fae burst   from the water masquerading as minnows, spilling silvery droplets as they rise.



 There are delightful classes in floating down on frilly filigree of banisters, ornate brims of opera-boxes, shelves of books and shining glassware.   Specially chosen cadets are schooled in Royal Comportment, for gracing velvet cushions and behind-the-throne lounging ledges built into the back of every royal chair, for quick consultation or immediate dispatch, or just for the fun of having such magical friends close at hand.
And there are indoor-type launches and landings as well, for learning the genteel art of set-down on carpet, stairs, marble floors of great halls.   There’s a special course in Hover-and-Float, for secret landings inside flowers or  behind sugar-bowls and muffin-stands on tea-tables.

 Myrea Pettit painting, with a VERY personal connection

  One afternoon features special guests, for it’s dedicated to alighting gently and safely on the shoulders of Folk-friends. 


All these charming scenes reside behind that pale green door, as tall as the gates of fabled cities, rising in tiers of colour and form, as the patient trainers lift and guide, console and cheer, teaching their wee charges to fly.
bugs 2


And when those doors glide open, the glitterings and gleamings, the magical spells and the delight of flight---those are too much for most eyes.  But when you’re lucky enough to be there for the opening---when you’re quick, and when you BELIEVE---THEN you’ll see something you’ll never forget.

*The two fairy stairways are the magical constructions of a young lady named Eliza, whose talents are legendary, and whose artistry amazing.   And of her delightful creations, moiré non. 


GSL said...

I know I've happened upon a treasure. What a beautiful piece of writing. You have a rare gift to enchant a young reader and mature reader alike with such clever and beautiful lyrical rhythm and imagery. I insist you post copyright symbols all over this straightaway and submit for publication.
Lewis Carroll would be proud of this!

racheld said...

Oh. My Goodness! Thank you, sir. We all have a love for fairies, with cunning little doors in bookcases and unexpected corners, and all sorts of wee folk and winged sprites around the house.

Sweetpea (Grand #5 of eight---she happens to be the only one who lives in our state) and I happened upon this tree on a walk in our park---we've been going on adventure walks since she could toddle, and lots of times when she was being wheeled along in a little green plastic car. We can spot a fairy dwelling or a hoblet's nest from far away, and the child has been wielding a magnifying glass over leaves and moss and acorn cups for years. And so we immediately agreed that it was, indeed, an enormously-tall doorway to an up-and-down schoolroom of many levels, (my own imagination going to that immense world-within-a-ship in "Independence Day," only happy and with not a mean creature to be found).

We both make up words on the fly, and names for things, and decide what various sticks and stones and feathers really are when they're at home with their feet up.

I really hesitated in posting all this too-twee prose, but I happened upon a wonderful set of pictures of fairy staircases and furniture and dwellings by a very young lady online; she and her Mother happily agreed to lend them to me for this post, and away went the torrent of words. I'll be posting a link to her blog post with the charming Fairy accoutrements in a day or two.

And THANK YOU SO very much for such kind words---I'm so glad you enjoyed the little piece. I've no pretentions nor ambitions for anything I write, though I DID just have the entire blog printed into books by one of those online services, just to hold in my hands.

I don't think I could ever submit anything for publication---probably for the same reason I saved up all my chore and birthday money in high school money and bought those darn magazines and all that blankety-blank fudge---the thought of selling anything to anybody is as foreign to me as Madagascar.


PS re your last sentence---How'd you know that I launch readily into "Twas Brillig and the slithy toves. . ." at the drop of a vowel.

donna baker said...

Oh, I do love that fairy tower.

racheld said...

Is it not absolutely charming??

The young lady gave me permission to use her photos and they're all so very clever and well-done, I'll be linking her Mom's blog in a few days, to share them all in the original.


Kim S. said...

I honestly believe that you were blessed in your crib by the fairies, my dear. You couldn't see what you see without their blessing.