Away with the fairies...

Village Song

Honey, child, honey, child, whither are you going?
Would you cast your jewels all to the breezes blowing?
Would you leave the mother who on golden grain has fed you?
Would you grieve the lover who is riding forth to wed you?

Mother mine, to the wild forest I am going,
Where upon the champa boughs the champa buds are blowing;
To the koil-haunted river-isles where lotus lilies glisten,
The voices of the fairy folk are calling me:
O listen!

Honey, child, honey, child, the world is full of pleasure,
Of bridal-songs and cradle-songs and sandal-scented leisure.
Your bridal robes are in the loom, silver and saffron glowing,
Your bridal cakes are on the hearth: O whither are you going?

The bridal-songs and cradle-songs have cadences of sorrow,
The laughter of the sun today, the wind of death tomorrow.
Far sweeter sound the forest-notes where forest-streams are falling;
O mother mine, I cannot stay, the fairy-folk are calling.

by Sarojini Naidu

Isn't that the truth? It isn't fairy season i know. Fairy season is the start of spring - when the trees put out the new hopeful green and the laughter of the good folk is behind every thought. When you can't concentrate on anything you're doing and the sunshine outside is an old friend who has come knocking and you put down everything to go gamboling in the woods.

But you know, it's nice to remember the fairies just before they disappear like the swallows that are going south. Before they go back to their underground world that is forever green and gold. I once had this wonderful dream of the fairies. They were all around twenty or so and not dressed resplendently, but looked very like my anarchist pals with dreads and second hand clothes - but indescribably cool. NONE OF THEM HAD WINGS. I know, how disappointing is that? They were carrying a palanquin and their king -i don't remember a queen - was seated on it. It looked like they had just come from an all night party and said to me, Where is your king? Bring your king to us... and they were laughing and giggling - like twenty somethings who had been dancing all night. It was a good dream to see the fairies.

Usually they are flashes of light - like the flashes we saw in the Poisoned Glen in Donegal. We had been walking all day and were very tired. We were looking forward to camp and dinner - even if it was going to be a cold one. Everything was soggy and wet through, but it had stopped raining and the sun was setting. It was high summer. Then in a distance, i saw a flash, like a lightbulb going off from behind a rock. A boulder, i should say, really. What was that, i asked myself. I'm seeing things. And then i looked up again and nothing.

As we got closer, the same light went off, but from a different place - i SAW that, i told myself and at that moment, Rose went - what was that? We looked at each other and said - FAIRIES!!!! Since then i have learnt to be open to the fairies when they appear as this tiny brilliant points of light. Of course someone somewhere will have a scientific explanation for it, but i don't really care. My believing that its the fairies does no one any harm - and is FAR MORE FUN.

Today a colleague said to me that she saw these strange flashing lights rushing past her. I said, they're fairies. I don't care anymore if people think i'm mad.

One more favourite fairy story is...one of our very very no nonsense conservationist types was doing a breeding wader survey in Lower Lough Erne. It was five am in the morning and he had just recorded a curlew. The looked up and saw a woman all dressed in white, very very tall, with two children coming towards him. She was holding their hands on either side of her. That's weird, he thought, looked down at his clipboard and then looked up again to see if they needed any help. In that instant, they had vanished, disappeared into nowhere. He quickly got back into the car and drove out of there. Bird surveying could wait another day.