Once upon a time, in an ancient land of platypus and pink bottlebrush, desert pea and rainbow lorikeet, there lived a quiet little girl, with a big imagination. She loved nothing more than to escape into fantasy realms. Books became portals to fairy kingdoms, where unicorns danced in butterfly meadows and dragons slept in caves of gold & gemstones. She loved books so much, that she began to make her own. With her pencils and crayons, she told tales of enchanted animals and brave little vikings, cities beneath the sea and exotic islands lost in time.
This little girl was born on a day when the veil between the worlds was very thin. Where she lived, it was Samhain, All Hallow’s Eve, a night when spirits walked the earth at midnight, witches danced under the moonlight, and much magic and mischief was afoot. But, on the other side of the world, it was Beltane, a time of flowers and sunshine and merriment, when Queen Flora set all the flowers alight, bursting with colour and joy. Being born in the month of May, she was a child of The Willow tree, sensitive and artistic, deeply connected with nature, and aligned with the emotional energy of the moon.
Her very favourite book was ‘Elves & Fairies’ by a most enchanted Australian Cottage Witch named Ida. Ida was born in the late 1800s, and she was, perhaps, the first of her kind to really ‘see’ the magic of the fae in the Australian bush. She sensed their presence in the fluffy yellow wattle flowers, taking flight on the backs of willy wagtails and kookaburras, and wearing little gumnut hats.
The little girl was so enchanted by Ida and her beautiful illustrations, that she dreamed of becoming an artist too... when she was all grown up. But, as is the way with so many children, the girl grew up and moved to the city, and got lost in grown up ways. She saw that the world of man, of concrete and steel, was often sad, and cold and cruel. And so, her magical pencils began to gather dust as the little flower wilted under artificial lights, the brilliant sunshine far away, and the enchanted forest and her faerie friends forgotten.
But one day, many years later, she returned to the forest. And sure enough... her faerie world was waiting for her, as if not a minute had passed. Upon her return, she heard bells chiming and the soft sound of laughter on the breeze. Wild violets peeked out from underneath leaves, ferns unfurled their delicate fronds, and... a patch of four leaf clovers appeared. Recognising this sign that the fae folk were near, she closed her eyes and asked ‘beloved faeries, please will you give me my name?” She waited a moment, holding her breath, and the answer came sweetly on the breeze – oh, the most beautiful perfume filled the air, and upon her return home, there, gowing wild amongst the blackberry brambles and bottlebrush at her front fence... a rambling rose.
So dear ones, I guess you’re curious to know... do I really believe in faeries? Well, I certainly do... but, not in the way you may think. Let’s make a nice cuppa and have a chat about it, shall we?
Faeries, I believe, are multidimensional beings, in a sense, they exist on many levels. In one way, I believe they exist in our imaginations, in our stories and folklore, indeed, our history and culture. And to my mind, what exists in the imagination, exists. Simple as that. Being a hedgewitch, a clairvoyant, who ‘jumps the hedge’ between worlds, it doesn’t seem at all strange to me to consider that the things I see with my eyes closed, in dreams or otherwise, are as real – sometimes more so, than those I see in my waking world.
But I also believe that they exist, in a form, in what we humans call our reality – I believe they are the spirits of the plants and we can ‘see’ them with our imagination and our intuition. Even communicate with them, if we learn the language of the plants. Each flower, fern and tree has a spirit – it’s very own faerie, that takes flight from time to time, not only on the wings of our imagination, but on those of dragonflies, birds and butterflies, and all the lovely creatures of the air.
Have you ever read the book ‘The Hidden Language of Trees?’. It is a fascinating book that tells of the intricate language that connects these living beings. At one point, when all matter was forming from star stuff, we were one and the same. And I believe we have simply lost the ability to ‘hear’ them... but I also believe, deep down, we know in our DNA this language. Indeed, Biologists, ecologists, foresters, and naturalists all increasingly argue that trees speak, and that humans can learn to hear this language.
When we communicate with plant spirits, when we tend a garden lovingly, or stop to smell a rose, or whisper to a seedling, we are communicating with the fae. At least, that’s what I believe. And the more we open our minds and hearts to this language, the more like the fae, we inevitably become.
You may have guessed by now that I am deeply connected to my inner child, and try to live my life according to the wishes of that little girl with the big imagination. As children, we can see and hear faeries because our minds are still open to the world of magic and wonder. When we see the world through the eyes of a child we see all things with curiosity, and the unknown becomes a secret door to a world of possibility. So, I’m very certain that the faeries LOVE it when we embrace our inner child.
I will share more on ways to connect with the faeries in future episodes of ‘The Rambling Rose’, but I thought it might be nice to start by crafting a spell jar to attract them into your garden, and call in good luck and abundance. You don’t need to have a physical garden for this spell to work, as the garden is simply a metaphor for life. If you tend to your goals with love and intention, and offer your kindness and childlike curiosity to the faeries, you will be blessed with abundance. And you know what? This spell really works! I will share this spell in detail as a printable page for my Patreon supporters, and over on my blog, but for now, you can follow along on my vlog.