C. S. Lewis
2
The Natural History of Fairies
Nonnie told me all of the fairy stories that she knew from when she was a little girl. Then we visited our public library to borrow several books on fairies. I discovered so many things about them by reading old legends and folk lore from Ireland, Scotland, and England. When you want to learn about something, read!! Books are a wonderful resource for finding out what is true and what isn’t. But don’t just stop there . . . read and investigate! Explore and experiment so that what you read doesn’t just stay in your mind, but becomes part of your memory as an experience.
The stories reported many interesting facts. I learned that fairies can come in all shapes, sizes and colors. Some are so tiny that the human eye can’t see them. Some are so large that we wouldn’t recognize them as fairies. Some can fly. Some are earthbound. Some are invisible. Some are fast and others are slow. I realized that most common fairies like to live near old oak trees, like to hold their dances beneath willow trees, and that I should beware of mushrooms growing in a circle. A circle of mushrooms is called a fairy ring. One who accidentally stands in the center of a fairy ring risks being kidnapped by the prince of fairies. It sounds like an adventure; however, the prince may keep his human for a thousand years. I realized that I would NOT like to be away from my farm and wood for a thousand years!
I learned from my observation of the first fairy that he collected bluets, the tiny blue-lavender flowers that grow on my farm. You wouldn’t notice bluets from a standing position. You have to lean down close to the ground or even crawl on your hands and knees to find patches of them. It took four days, but I found a patch of bluets growing near the “Grandpop Tree,” which was our name for a hundred-year-old chestnut oak that nestled wisely between two sedge-covered rises in the large field. I thought about camouflaging myself and hiding near the bluet patch to wait on my fairy. Then I realized that I couldn’t really hide myself from a fairy. Wouldn’t you notice an elephant in your living room? Reasonably, the best approach would be a simple and truthful one.
I sat down on a giant oak tree root. I was very still and quiet. I sat patiently for a long time. I didn’t mind waiting because I had my imagination with me. I pretended all sorts of wonderful things in my mind while my eyes stayed focused on the bluet patch. After several hours I was rewarded for my diligence. There among the small flowers I saw movement—three fairies appeared and began to pick bluets, placing them in little baskets. These fairies appeared to be females, and they were dressed in pastel colors. The fairy colors are difficult to describe, like the pale pearl gray in the ring around the moon or the peachy purple streak of a setting sun. They were beautiful.
I didn’t approach them. I sat and studied them from my root seat. I knew they saw me, for every now and again they would glance over at me. When their baskets were filled with flowers, they spread iridescent wings that were like the rainbow sheen of a bubble and flew away.
After observing fairies doing all sorts of marvelous simple things, I realized that I was what the old Irish tales called fey, or “fairy aware.” Not everyone is fey; you are born with this gift as some are born to be musicians or artists. I love music and art, but I cannot create it the way gifted musicians and artists can. Similarly, many people love fairies and enchanting stories, but they just can’t see them.
Being fey, I was able to discern enchantment. This meant that as I was walking along a path or wandering through a wood, I could detect fairy glamour. I would feel the enchantment wash over my face like a cool breeze. My eyes would automatically search out a spot where the fairies might live, work or play. Because of this, I began to see more fairies than I could have ever imagined. Sometimes I would glimpse them out of the corner of my eye. Or sometimes I would focus on them in that “in between” space, like when you look at one thing, letting your eyes relax, and then you see everything.
If you are fey, you will know what I mean. If you aren’t, you can pretend to be fey simply by using your imagination! Some people say that every child is born fey, but they lose faith in the unseen world as they grow older. I thought it was rare to find fey adults, but there are many more of us than I ever dreamed!
I love to wander in the mountains and to hike the deep canyons of the Cumberland Gap and Appalachian Mountains. Many tumbling rivers have created enchanted gorges full of boulders, endangered species . . . and myths and legends.
One of my favorite legends is that of the Little People who were called Yunwi Tsunsdi (pronounced Yun-wee Joon-stee) by the Cherokee Indians who first populated this region. These Little People are “nature spirits.” They can render themselves invisible but usually manifest as small, child-like humans. When threatened or angry, they sprout thick rough hair all over their faces and their teeth become long and sharp. They live in rock caves along the river, and their purpose is to defend the waters to keep them safe for creatures who live there.
The Little People are tricksters. Many hikers become lost in the forest because the Little People have placed an enchantment on them or have altered the trails. It is said the Little People can read human intent very easily. Therefore, if you are a kind person, they will treat you kindly. But if you are an unkind person, they will trick you and lead you astray.
I have never met a Yunwi Tsunsdi face to face. But I have been hiking along the river and heard splashing water. When I investigated, there was no one to be seen, but there were child-sized wet footprints all over the boulders and in one spot, water dripping from an invisible source about twelve inches high. When I laughed and said, “Osiho Dohitsu,” which means “Hello, how are you?” in Cherokee, there was a mischievous laugh in response and I was splashed from all around by invisible tiny hands. This sparkling-laughing-splashing of water traveled across the river away from me and disappeared into the forest.
My Scotch-Cherokee father told me that when he was a young boy he became lost in the woods late one evening. He wasn’t frightened, but he knew his mother would worry if he wasn’t home by dark. He built a small fire on a sandy spot of soil, careful to clear any debris away first. He spread out on a big green leaf by the fire a few crackers that he had in his pocket.
He closed his eyes and sang a song that his grandfather had taught him to sing when one needs help in the forest. When he finished singing, he opened his eyes. The crackers were gone and there, by the fire, a map was drawn in the sand. The Little People understood his song. They knew he was a good person, accepted his meal offering, and directed him home.
“Just living is not enough” said the butterfly fairy,
“One must have sunshine, freedom and a little flower.”
— Hans Christian Andersen
Believe in the Fairies
Who make dreams come true.
Believe in the wonder,
The stars and the moon.
Believe in the magic,
From Fairies above.
They dance on the flowers,
And sing songs of love.
And if you just believe,
And always stay true,
The
