I have just been standing on a large patch of sticky puddled earth where presently a Fairies house will stand. A sycamore, recently felled is now steadfast again at its centre, buried deep into the ground. Sixteen sturdy poles stand guard about it. Floor and walls, windows and door will by and by be constructed before all is hidden beneath a hill upon which wild thyme and marjoram will flourish. Butterflies will nectar there, hares will hurry by and nibble on the sweet grasses, children will play, and all the while fairies will abide secretly beneath their roots... their paws... their feet.
A fantastical boast indeed, some may choose to disbelieve me, but I have truly stood upon this ground... and what's more, I'll stand my ground against anyone who diffides me... I'd simply invite them to come and stand beside me!
There is certainly magic here, though unlike the footings of the fairy house, I couldn't share it with anyone of a doubting disposition, they simply wouldn't see it; it wouldn't be tangible to them. To see 'magic' you need a certain twinkle in your eye. All children are born with it, though sadly many grow out of it...twinkling that is. Instead they grow to see things from a more 'grown up perspective', which really can be rather dull... not twinkly at all!
As a child my play time sparkled with imagination, all kinds of fantastical creatures took shape there; fairies and giants unicorns and other creatures so extraordinary that perhaps I am the only one to have ever seen them. I must concede that growing up, even my belief in magic wavered from time to time. “It's only pretend”, grandma would say... granddad, mum and dad invariably followed suit. My big brother seemed to take particular delight in this casual quest to disillusion... he head up rumours that Father Christmas wasn't real and fairies didn't really exist. But there was always a glimmer of hope in my heart, a twinkle in my eye that distracted me from this grown up outlook and enabled me to continue to see magical things. Sadly most grown ups(...some as young as eleven or twelve) stop looking with a sense of wonder, barely even noticing much that is beautiful and real never mind magical.
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