Bloody blog ate this faery story! I couldn't decide which one of these to use. One's more a sunny picture bright and luminous but it was the other that I saw really. Since Don began collecting tiny ceramic frogs to hide in amongst our waterfall this lot of faeries have been seen frequently, but so quickly do the blink away that only now have I been able to try and recreate them and then I am not sure at all. I see them out of the corner of my eyes but make the mistake of even slightly turning my head and they disappear. But I know that they move those frogs about because every time I try to count them I always seem to be out by one or two and I am never sure which one. I usually get up to about 19 and I know there are 21 right now. Sometimes they hide a real frog in amongst the others and I get quite a start when it plops away if I get too near!  

This Cicada Faery sat on a branch outside the window just looking at me...obviously waiting for me to notice the first song of the Cicadas this spring.

It has been a while now since we heard them...March perhaps...its now late September and early Spring. But the days have been very warm.

So once she caught my eye and then blinked out...I began to hear them again...I love the sound of the Cicadas...although by high summer they can become almost deafening.

They mean life...family, childhood... summer, all that is familiar. 

Out near the birdbath.

These fullof life and laughter crew just came out of my dreams early one grey morning. I opened my eyes and there they were just for that moment, mucking about near the birdbath. It had rained all night and after a grey dawn a gentle strobe of sunlight lit up the branches around the birdbath and there ther all were a sparkling away. Then poof... gone. I heard the beautiful song of the Butcher Bird break out near the bird bath... he would have seen what I saw an more...ahh its nice out here sometimes. 

A basket of Trolls

This is a basket of Trolls being carried by a Troll carrying faery. This is her duty. Trolls find it hard to get about quickly on their short chubby little legs so when they have to travel long distances to inhabit a new bridge or toabandon a bridge which has collapsed the Troll carrying faery whooshes in like a whooshing thing and loads the Trolls into her Troll carrying basket This is a really important time for the trolls as they get to fly high above the earth and see in and out the fabric of time. For a faery to have to honour of serving the trolls this way is a great honour. Sometimes you may be lucky enough to see one arriving at a new bridge, at sunset the day before the official opening... full of excitement... or you may see them departing early on the dawn of the day after an old bridge has collpased or been destroyed. Its at these times you must be still and pay the trolls their due homage because they do an awful lot of bridge patching up...replacing bolts and beams... and a darn good thing too because the darn Government and Councils are too careless at looking after the bridges which we all must travel over.  

Just a quick whippedup faerie

This one is a real quick whipped up faerie. She was here amongst the flowers and then gone and all I was left with was a vague memory of what she looked like. She was like a blur then she stopped and looked and then blurred off again. 

Don't upset this one okay.

Please don't upset this one. The smile means nothing at all...its just an expression. She's making a decision whether or not to whip up wild winds and add the red sparks from her hair to the bush, or to bring together a calamity of clouds and open the heavens with her one tear. Whatever she decides its better to either not be there at the time or to be as prepared as you can be and hope for the best okay.

She's not bad as we think of it...she just is, and one day is fire, one day is rain, one day is sweet and light and the other brings you pain...

So just do not go looking for her, she is too easily found. 

Amongst the Silky Oaks

Behind the Silky Oak trees a whispering sound can be heard on quiet days. When the whole world stands still for that magic moment as if all creation is holdong its breath I can hear them again. Once I happened to be amongst the trees when this happened and out of the corner of my eye I saw a long pale elegant hand pull open the fabric of the bush around me as iff pulling back a curtain. Wider and wider...and for a moment, the briefest moment I glimpsed two unusual ladies and heard them whispering words which spun past me like a breathy velvet. I turned to look andthe pale hand quickly pulled the curtain shut and the world returned to what we think of as normal... but was it? What is normal? The extraordinary seemed totally normal to me in those few moments.

I know now that when all the world stops and the whispering starts again, the curtain has been once again pulled back... but I will never go over there on those sorts of days because it is their place now and not mine. In never was mine anyway. 

I spotted this conundrum of bright eyed faeries when I looked up through the wash house window. I was adding yet another load to the hard worked washing machine and I got the feeling that they were wondering why on earth I was inside when it was such a bright and beautiful light filled spring day outside.

So was I wondering the same. But when I got outside they were not where they had been but I thought I heard them laughing behind my back. When I spun around they were not there, but I saw a shower of golden pollen rain down out of the large tree at the side of our house. I am pretty sure they were hiding in amongst its branches... funny little things.

And no I didn't finish the washing and it will still be there tomorrow, but no guarantee a bright beautiful day like to day will be.