faeriegarden

faerytales ~ to the woods.

2009-11-02T19:51:14Z

Photographs from my Ashputtel shoot ~
...waiting for her prince.

"Now it happened that the king of that land held a feast, which was to last three days; and out of those who came to it his son was to choose a bride for himself. Ashputtel's two sisters were asked to come; so they called her up, and said, 'Now, comb our hair, brush our shoes, and tie our sashes for us, for we are going to dance at the king's feast.' Then she did as she was told; but when all was done she could not help crying, for she thought to herself, she should so have liked to have gone with them to the ball; and at last she begged her mother very hard to let her go.
'You, Ashputtel!' said she; 'you who have nothing to wear, no clothes at all, and who cannot even dance--you want to go to the ball? And when she kept on begging, she said at last, to get rid of her, 'I will throw this dishful of peas into the ash-heap, and if in two hours' time you have picked them all out, you shall go to the feast too.'" *

the forest was tangled and quiet
and the occasional bird song and patter of rain
fell on to the auburn and gold leaves
a paint palette of burnt umber and sepia
they scattered the ground like fairy dust
a stray leaf would fall as if time had ceased
the fur hood of my long dark coat secluded me
as I crouched under contorted branches of the great
trees... oak, pine, holly, chestnut..
looking for fungi and bits of fallen treasure
to tell stories
the rain sent the mist as I climbed to higher ground
glancing a squirrel running astray with a chestnut
leaving the gutted spiky husk behind
I saw branch limbs displayed in eerie crossed over formations
as if from an old horror film
there was a tiny shelter built entirely like this
a home for a feral runaway
this forest was hidden from the road
it felt sacred and I could
feel its need to entrap me
leaving a false trail of breadcrumbs
bough hands dragging me under
underground

xxx

Equinox.

2009-09-22T20:44:30Z

there is a place in the woods where the trees are a tangled chaos of roots, and eyes watch you from the undergrowth, one of the elders is home to the entranced children that have wandered afar from the swan lake, the rooks in the branches peer at you with onyx eyes and their caws echo through the bleak hallway of leaves.

down by the stream, where dragonflies hover sleepily over the flowers, and the path that leads there, shows tracks from tiny animals, there are never any footprints and the branches and overgrown with thorn bushes and nettles, there is a stone bridge and a faerie procession at twilight, when the sun wanes into dusk. Pixies dwell in the tree hollows, their small homes hidden in the ancient earth. Bluebells enshroud the clearing, a sea of cyan and a throne for the queens.

the aquarium..

Sending you all magick x

A tinder box.

2009-07-06T20:17:12Z

I had a dream that I was lost in a library; it had spiral staircases and tiny ladders with goblins wearing spectacles, they were dusting the highest shelves. I sat in a big red velvet armchair reading every book that I could find about myths and tales, until the guard told me that it was closing time, “don’t you have a home to go to miss?”, I yawned sleepily and glanced at the big grandfather clock, it was two minutes to ten.
I am not a believer in hope but it sometimes comes in wisps and strays, I am going to begin a pebble jar, just like Stargirl, and maybe one day it will become full of mermaid tear pebbles.

I want to see Paris lit up at night time, sit with my sketchbook in the Musée du Louvre, and take photographs of the Eiffel Tower, see Peter Pan in Kensington Gardens, dance under the moon and constellations at Stonehenge, stay up all night at a music festival in a far away country, sing in a band, but I think I am much too shy, and there is no room in his band for a girl, leave sweet words for strangers sat on lonely park benches, go and see the The Nutcracker and take ballet lessons too, I used to dance when I was five, I think most little girls did, and Swan Lake and La Bayadère at the Royal Opera House, I think I would cry over how beautiful they both are, find an old music box and suitcases, and my very own Pan god, I will be your nymph, I promise.
Visit Glastonbury with its pretty bookshops, and abbey and gardens, make my hair the colour of the palest moons, kiss boys with smudged eye liner and tattoos and muscled arms, and buy that copy of East of the Sun, West of the Moon, with illustrations by Kay Nielsen, that I have always wanted, and my best friend and I will travel to London in September and dress as Viking girls for the band, and look around art universities. I want to take the bus to Portobello road and buy vintage black lace and antique books, and this year I will move away from home, share a tiny house with a few girls or boys, and we will have so many lovely days, and if we feel sad, we will watch Picnic at Hanging Rock, Girl, Interrupted and the Virgin Suicides, and old horror films too, we can hide our hearts for just one day, and tomorrow when the sun wakes up I will go for a walk with my camera on the lonely five a m roads.

Awakening.

2009-06-30T15:17:42Z

Little girl lost.

My dear sister ~ from the tanglewood.

[I do not have many words, but I hope you are all well, truly. The earth has stood still a little, I am trying to fix myself, and not break any hearts. I still believe x]

May - lily of the valley.

2009-05-08T20:21:46Z

Today is flora day, a celebration of light, fertility and life, I wanted to go and dance in the streets but ma was a little too busy to take me, so I bought flowers, wore a long dress and sat in the garden amongst the daisies, listening to the birds.
We found an abandoned magpie nest, it really had been discarded, but it is so beautiful, I think I will make an installation, cover it with tiny lights, and flowers, before the wind takes it away.

Dreamer... Model : my sister Carrie-Ann

Ballerina.
Girl with the red ribbons tied around tiny ankle bones
Find one tangled on the arms of a tree branch
Her lucky charm
Will grant you a wish
Running through forget-me-not’s
And bluebells
A flutter of white and powder pink tulle
Dewdrops dance on her skin
Bees gather
She is as sweet and pure as their flowers
She sings to them
The butterflies in her hair are enchanted
Captured
By her delicacy
The fields are her home
With her stage of flowers
The sun is her mirror.

[a little peak at some paintings ~ my scanner is much too small]

Last night I dreamt of a child, she was very young, and we were swimming in a giant lake with two others, you must swim on your back, they told us, the whales were nearly upon us. We escaped the whales, and the next lake was full of dolphins, and tiny darting fish. The whales were still there, giant mammals hiding under the cover of the clouded water. Faster we swam our legs like mermaid tales. The third lake was deadly silent, and blood streaked the dark water. We had lost the child.
Please bring sweet dreams soon.

I really must learn to be brave; I cannot keep shying away from everything, hiding behind my hair, downcast eyes. Tiny little steps…
p.s. I really am sorry for disappearing again, thank you for being so patient x

I am a bluebird.

2009-03-22T21:53:30Z

I am free, a hummingbird, delicate and iridescent. Spring makes me feel happier, watching the world become whole again, alive. Daffodils, and irises and daisies, reading books in the long grass.

A few weeks ago, on march the eleventh, I travelled to London for a few days, with my love. We stayed in Covent Garden, with the pretty cobbled streets and cake shops. We looked in a dimly lit bookshop hidden away, which was almost like a dream, children’s books spilling on to the carpet, first editions in their cellophane covers, pages crisp and yellowing from age. The words peering out, wanting to be bought. I spied Peter Pan and Wendy, but two hundred and fifty pounds is an awful lot of money. I wanted to touch the fine print, and find a golden ticket hidden between the pages of Roald Dahl’s Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.
The streets are a giant maze, buildings tower high and powerful, leviathans. People reading their mountains of books, starry eyes and bottomless cups of sweet coffee, with milk and cream. Lights, tiny glow worms that never go out, leading us into eerie underground tunnels. Standing on a deserted platform at quarter to midnight, a one way ticket to neverwhere, perhaps.
Markets that smell of stale tobacco smoke and sugared fast food, everything is fast. In the morning, the city sleeps, while we eat almond croissants for breakfast in a café with quiet conversation.
Your music, drumbeats and distorted guitars, one row from the stage, arms reaching out and singing your little hearts out, knowing all of the words we will never forget. You touched the crowd with your voice, and your keyboards. We used to swim the same moonlight waters, oceans away from the wakeful day...

These photographs were taken in Trebah gardens, we went there last week, and drank lemonade by the lake.

If I could be anything at all, I would be your guardian angel, always watching over you.
*

luna_fay @ 2009-02-14T18:48:00

2009-02-14T18:48:44Z

To all of the tiny hearts in this world [look after them].

♥

luna_fay @ 2009-02-07T22:42:00

2009-02-07T23:15:30Z

A faraway narnian land.

Julian and I went on a long bus ride to the seaside today, I wanted to collect shells from the shore to send with my letters, but the tide was in too far. The waves were washing foam and tangled seaweed on to the cobbled streets. It was so quiet, and cold, there are many sweet shops and cafe's and seafood restaurants, toy shops and art galleries and shops selling handmade purses, flowers and cards.
A ghostly curse fell over the fishing town, I am going to write a story about this. The mermaid from the pier bestowed a curse upon the town in the bleak winter months.

luna_fay @ 2009-01-23T21:06:00

2009-01-23T21:10:39Z

[i have missed you]

My new hideaway is a place called kennal vale forest, it is eerie and quiet, you can’t hear a thing, but the rush of the water from the waterfalls. There are hidden caverns, hollows and moss covered rock boulders, a lake filled with dead water where you would expect water spirits and creatures to hide, beneath the black surface. I have been going there quite a bit recently.
I have been a little worried about my sister, she wanted to leave here; home, to run away. She is so so sad sometimes and it makes my heart ache, I would go with her, to keep her safe. Today we took the bus into town and sat in a bookshop drinking hot chocolate with marshmallows, I hope she feels braver now [please].

Happiness is every minute that passes, every whisper... happiness is the morning sunlight that casts rainbow shadows upon your skin, ice on tree branches and leaves, robins and sparrows picking at the breadcrumbs, books... the smell of the pages, and being inside an old bookshop, thunderstorms and keeping quiet and safe under the duvet, goodnight stories and kisses, knowing that a tiny beating heart in the world loves and adores you, the moon and star guardians, walking through woodlands, waterfalls and tree spirits, writing in the sand, sitting on the edge of the cliff watching the ocean waves, watching films in the darkness, holding hands, music… always, falling asleep in your paints, being free spirited, and believing that the world is a good place, even though it sometimes isn’t.

♥

luna_fay @ 2008-11-18T20:39:00

2008-11-18T20:39:30Z

Tuesday’s are sometimes magical. I went to the woods with my mother, things between us are happier now. I fed the squirrels, with tiny nuts from my pockets, one of them bit my mother’s finger, it wasn’t as tame as the others near the lake. I counted eleven swans on the lake, and four cygnets, the gulls were making an awful racket. There is a part of the woods where the rooks live, and it’s quite frightening when you walk past all of the tangled trees, you can feel their dark eyes on you, but they are beautiful birds. We were trying to find mushrooms, but they must like the very damp areas, and it was impossible to see beyond the blanket of leaves. It is so quiet there; I think I would feel at home sleeping under the trees, with the big ebony birds as my guardians.

xx

luna_fay @ 2008-11-11T22:43:00

2008-11-11T23:15:51Z

I have been living in a cocoon for a few short weeks, wanting to sleep away the time, peaceful and eerie dreams, about tooth fairies with nasty sharp teeth stealing locks of hair from children, and baby dragons found in cereal boxes. Watching videos by the Cure, and reading.. Once upon a time in the north, Lyra’s Oxford, The Spiderwick chronicles, Encyclopedias of wild animals, moths and butterflies. My head is buried in the newest book by Neil Gaiman, he is very wonderful, I am reading it before bed, when my eyelids are heavy.
I am wishing to illustrate a book soon, my fingers are crossed, hoping that the author is going ahead with his writings and that perhaps he will ask me. I recently made a little poster for his poetry class, that he put up around the school he works in.

I have courage today, but yesterday was a lonely day. I am trying not to feel so overwhelmed.

Trickery in the ivy forest.

The faerie counsel.

He held the lucid crystal stone to entrance the forest spirits... they gathered in the clearing and listened. The animals in the forest were still, quiet...

Inspired by the faerie woodlands ~ the archway and the stream.

Poetry lesson in the enchanted forest.

Child faeries in the forest, learning their rhymes.

My love has promised to let me watch Miss potter tonight x

A pale opus moon.
Stars are our guardians,
in the night sky.

Keep your hearts brave xx

luna_fay @ 2008-10-16T16:42:00

2008-10-16T15:42:16Z

I am in the forest picking blackberries, staining my fingers purple and red, like tiny bruises. I have strayed much too far from the path and the afternoon sun is gradually ebbing behind a grey storm cloud. I perch on a tree stump where insects are attached to the sap, seeping from the cracks.
Rooks call to one another, hidden within the safety of branches, haunting caws echo through the arched tunnel of elder and birch trees. I see something white in the distance, a plastic carrier bag discarded carelessly... no, a small head of fur. The cloud like shape emerges from a hole and turns to face me with piercing ruby coloured eyes. Rabbit... before I can consider how strange it all seems, two more follow the first out of the burrow.
I fumble in my satchel for the camera and capture the rabbits before they disappear, and I start to follow them, through the undergrowth, snagging my hair on tangled thorn branches. Fallen autumn leaves and twigs crunch and snap under foot, however I can see a clearing ahead, paved with stone. I hide behind a sheltering tree, and watch as the rabbits pause, their downy fur disappears until they no longer resemble animals.
Three sprites take their place, dressed in leaves, brown fur and delicate flower hats. They carry long twigs and acorn cups filled with nectar. Before I can blink twice, the tiny forest creatures scurry into an old oak tree, a great portal to another realm...

A dream.

2008-10-10T19:24:08Z

The sunlight shines through the window at dawn; a misty apricot hue wakes me from a dream... I was in Zennor, sat on the beach with the rocks behind me, watching sun beams dancing off the choppy waves. A mermaid appeared from beneath the cerulean and foam wave crest, with milky scales and golden hair tangled in a mess of seaweed and shells. She watched me for a while, before speaking in a musical voice about the tales of her people, and the hidden palaces and caverns, but she was only happy sometimes. The mermaid wanted to roam shores and villages as a human with pale limbs, and she asked if we could trade places until twilight, but I felt that she was tricking me, I shook my head and told her I was awfully afraid of the deep water.

I have spent a little bit of time with my friend Ell, this week. She has a black kitten named inka, and she likes to chew your hair and scratch you playfully. We took the labradors to the field, past the streams and blackberries. Her house is like a farm, with all of the animals she looks after.

Oh I am quite excited for the end of october, carving pumpkins, toffee apples, face paint and long black cloaks, lanterns, mushroom hunting in the woods, toasting marshmallows, warm fires and ghost stories. What are your favourite books to read? xx

luna_fay @ 2008-09-19T19:41:00

2008-09-19T18:57:53Z

Let me share a few secrets with you...

*
My dream is to illustrate and write books, I want to share magic with others; I want them to see dancing lights at breaking dawn or dusk, apricot skies, trees with little wooden doors and faces in the flowers and leaves and tree roots.
*
If I have a little girl child one day, I will name her Rosalie Ophelia.
*
Today I told my mother that she should appreciate every day, instead of feeling so... crestfallen. I get so upset by her actions, and I wish she wouldn’t be so angry.
*
I want to travel... I ache... to be some place else, my love and I talked about Scandinavia, perhaps we will go in a few years.
*
I wish time would stop, just for a second, so I could leave treasures for people to find when they wake from their dreams.
*

The faerie garden ~

Today we drove past countryside thriving with life and warm autumn colours, to a mostly deserted little beach. My mother, sister Carrie-ann and I, went rock climbing for a while, it was slippery and the tide was coming in. I wanted to swim, but I had a dress on, and although it felt warm, the water looked ice cold. We had to climb up the cliff face to reach the path, and I didn't see the seals this time.

Dryad and water nymph... sketches.

The faerie counsel ~ here is a little peak at a painting I'm working on.

luna_fay @ 2008-08-08T22:42:00

2008-08-08T22:22:37Z

I am in love with the days, the air we breathe, the flowers and delicate folds in silk and lace, insects and birds bathing in rain water, whisps of cloud forming faces.
Everywhere I look, I see something else, that isn't quite there, a face or a twig hand reaching forward, a muse, words written in the twisted and gnarled tree branches.

I shall tell you of my days, sharing secrets.

A french market, sickly sweet smells of pancakes, syrup and honey, preserves, turkish delight and sugared almonds, hot soups and spices.

The buzzard keeps coming back to sit on the hedge in the garden, he is dangerous looking
and only lingers for a short while before flying into the big tree.
Reading the magic toyshop and the wild wood before midnight [i cannot seem to keep my eyes open], a pile of books as high as my bed, veiled words and pictures waiting to be discovered.
We went to the seaside, pebbled beaches that hurt to walk on with bare toes, tiny gardens and spiralling stairs leading to rockpools shielded with ageing shells and crabs and tiny sea anemones. We found life under stones, and a gull with a broken wing looked ever so sad, I think he probably died when the tide washed up.

Enchanting skies that reminded me of a gustave doré painting, standing in the rain letting the droplets fall from the sky, smells of cut grass, wasps and blushing organs of flowers.
For my birthday, I was given a looking glass, inks and parchment paper, faerie jewellery and a tea cup and saucer, books, and my favourite of all is my bow and arrows, beautifully carved.

The day before my birthday, we went for a long walk past fields, country bridal paths and farms. I found the butterfly tree, and a hidden place that wasn't there before, it was as if the trees had parted and formed a passage way. We followed it for a while, but it seemed to lead to a private house. My love wanted to walk to this old mining town and engine house, we sat on rocks and ate a little picnic of blueberries and oat flapjacks. It felt eerie, a ghostly village.

It rained mostly all day on the fifth of august, we woke at five in the morning so that I could open presents under the duvet before we went on our train journey. The queue to the aquarium stretched for miles, so we didn't get to go in the end, but I have decided that september will be a good time. Instead we walked around a tiny war museum for one pound fifty entry fee, four floors of a house with low ceilings. It was filled with weaponry, maps, paintings and photographs, furniture, old school desks and blackboards, a dollshouse, apocathery bottles and viles, and a penny farthing bicycle. It was really quite fascinating, especially looking at ration books and the medicines people used during the war.
I stumbled across a bookshop in the market, where I found two copies of Alice in Wonderland, one of them is from 1910 and the pages are brown and crisp. The evening was quiet and peaceful, birthday cake with sparkler candles that never go out and re makes of old horror films.

♥

luna_fay @ 2008-07-08T22:27:00

2008-07-08T21:46:50Z

Mother says I am drifting like a ghost, I think it's because I feel a bit lost. Today I have been reading, (a penny for your thoughts she says) as it is still too cold, writing letters, and falling asleep thinking of continents I wish to explore. Everything is so topsy turvy since I finished art college, but I am going to be starting new things in september. I shall be telling stories next week, and my love is going to play music for me in the background, I hope you will like them.

(happy birthday dear Keri-Anne)

luna_fay @ 2008-07-05T14:18:00

2008-07-05T13:55:19Z

Faeries and woodland spirits gathered together to celebrate the birth of nature. There was dancing in the rain, striped tights and bare feet, children with painted faces, bubble faeries and enchanted folk music. Drum beats, flutes, harpsichords, mandolins and mystical voices filled the air, dainty faeries paraded in greens and browns. Ribbons and flowers decorated the mud soaked paths, green men and goblin drummers.

I had a wonderful day, but it rained and rained and my wings were trying to break free in the wind. I met Linda Ravenscroft and Peter Pracownik, and they were both kind spirited. I bought a skirt made of silk leaves, a painting and a tiny faerie in a jar. There was a kind man who travelled in his gypsy caravan, he sold handmade mushrooms that were very large in size. I thought the unicorn that was trotting around looked quite sad, he didn’t seem to like children stroking his mane.

It was my love's twenty first birthday on Monday, I was going to surprise him with a picnic in the forest, decorated with ribbons and pictures but I didn't have enough time to do so. I think August will be a nice time. We went to some lovely gardens owned by the National Trust, where we had scones and milky tea and came across little birds and a rabbit making a nest. The light shone through the trees and you could see the river below. In the evening we ate at an italian restaurant and saw Prince Caspian afterward, which was all very exciting. I think the dear little friend [dwarf] was my favourite.

luna_fay @ 2008-06-12T16:11:00

2008-06-12T15:16:57Z

There is stillness at this time of the morning, it is three am and I lie on the soft down of the feathered mattress and gaze at the stars projected on to the black ceiling. They make me feel nostalgic and I concentrate my thoughts on their bright glow that leaves an imprint. The clock on the wooden bedside table has ceased its slow ticking; the world has come to a standstill it seems. I briefly hear an owl cry out in a nearby tree before it settles, and my eyes feel like tiny orbs in ghostly old paintings piercing through the darkness, glimpsing the dotted lights outside the windowpane, stretching for acres.

Dull amber streetlamps on housing estate corners, people asleep in the backseat of cars beginning a voyage, the rebirth of their lives, small mammals captivated by vehicle headlights on carriageways, their bodies too frigid to move under the spell, an end to their life cycles.

We take life for granted, a unique, alien world exists when dusk falls, and a veil is thrown down from the heavens, the cloud keepers, allowing us to pass through in our dreams. My eyes cloud over with tiredness, wavering on the lights above me, until they blur and I tumble into a slumber of gentle breathing.

xxx

luna_fay @ 2008-06-09T20:49:00

2008-06-09T20:49:35Z

June has been kind. Picnics in the park, leaving messages and ribbons pegged to tree branches, collecting shells, feeding the fish tiny bits of bread, magpie nests at the bottom of the garden, honey and banana toast, flowers in little vases, making short films about wishes, counting the clouds in the sky, leaving love notes under his pillow, flower crowns, owls hunting at night - their screeches echoing through the trees, milk coloured moths flitting amongst the light, twilight and hazy skies.
[dreaming about the otherworld and faerie]

I hope you are all having lovely days xxx

luna_fay @ 2008-05-19T22:09:00

2008-05-19T21:41:39Z

Here is the fairy tree house and garden that I have only just finished, it has taken me such a long time. I made a tree cake also, with vanilla pod branches, a gingerbread door and a sugar icing mushroom - my very own pixie hollow. I have some things that I plan to do soon, a few installations in the woodlands, and short films with dreamy keyboard music by my love. I would like to read stories to you, too.

I am so tired, I think I could sleep for days.

luna_fay @ 2008-05-12T16:42:00

2008-05-12T15:57:02Z

Pray, where are the little bluebells gone,
That lately blossomed in the wood?
Why, the little fairies have each taken one,
And put it on for a hood.

And where are the pretty grass-stalks gone,
That waved in the summer breeze?
Oh, the fairies have taken them, every one,
To plant in their gardens like trees.

And where are the great big blue-bottles gone,
That buzzed in their busy pride?
Oh, the fairies have caught them, every one,
And have broken them in, to ride.

And they’ve taken the glow-worms to light their halls,
And the cricket to sing them a song;
And the great red rose leaves to paper their walls,
And they’re feasting the whole night long.

And when Spring comes back, with its soft mild ray,
And the ripple of gentle rain,
The fairies bring what they’ve taken away,
And give it us all again.

Fairy treasure from dear Iris.

I am building my very own fairy tree house and garden. I think I am quite looking forward to seeing it finished and ready for show. The house is made from tree bark and twigs and there is a little mushroom table too. If you like, I shall show you.
♥

luna_fay @ 2008-04-25T14:36:00

2008-04-25T13:53:20Z

Today I am grateful for storytelling, and the ability to love. There are some wonderful people on earth, shining stars in galaxies.

Do not be frightened of the things that haunt your sleep, deep in the forest lies a house, and in that very house lives a being, someone quite magical. To get there, you have to let your nightmares become dreams. Follow the labyrinth that guides you...

♥

I am wishing for things to happen this summer. Tea parties with fruits and cake and pink lemonade, picnics with my love under the trees near the lake, smiling at passers by, velvet emerald dresses and delicate feet, exploring old mining towns and desolate forgotten places, reading in fields of gold flowers, sleeping under the stars, drawing in the sunshine, making daisy chains and flower crowns, climbing over rock pools and finding sea creatures hidden beneath their tiny rock homes, hiding in caves, making a mobile to hang in the woods, tying wishes to trees to make the world seem less sad... I would like that, to be tender towards those who have lost all feeling of happiness.

What are you wishing for?

luna_fay @ 2008-04-17T20:28:00

2008-04-17T19:53:11Z

I think that it must be time to fly, fly away soon, and leave the nest. I would like a little house to live in, and a garden. The world just seems too big, and awfully frightening for just one girl to achieve her dreams. I keep crossing my fingers tightly.

The last few days have been nice, I went for a walk yesterday with my friend Ellie. I took photographs of streams and ivy growing on the tree branches and forgotten paths and I really wanted to climb and climb until I could see land that stretched for miles, but I don't think climbing would have been a good idea after all. It must be lovely to be an explorer, living with wolves, picking fruit and bathing in lakes. Drinking hot milk and honey around a small camp fire, sleeping under the stars and finding constellations.

Goodnight little blackbirds.

luna_fay @ 2008-04-07T22:25:00

2008-04-07T21:28:31Z

Quietly we tiptoed from the room, following the fairy spirits into the midsummer night. We lay beneath the welcoming branches of a handkerchief tree, fingers entwined and eyes upturned toward the milky stars. The flitter of lights danced around us in the pale moonlight, soft laughter filled the night air and we found peace.

Oh, happy April.

2008-04-03T17:23:53Z

The day before yesterday was a beautiful day, we took pictures in the garden – a woodland faerie in her element of vines and blossoms and tangled branches. We put our boots on and went for a little walk, past the goats in their pen, and quaint houses. The flowers have bloomed and the sun is warm on our skin, perhaps spring is here at last. My new books arrived also, a world guide to fairies, the tale of beatrix potter and an enchanted dolls’ house theatre. We listened to Danny Elfman, ate tiny butterfly cakes and built my paper carousel. I fed the birds with stale breadcrumbs and we watched them from the window.

I forgot to tell you that London was wonderful, it was so very cold though, and it snowed a little. We went to Hyde Park, and Covent Garden, where we ate pizza and walked round the markets. I found a tiny toyshop where I bought the paper carousel, they were selling wooden kaleidoscopes in a glass cabinet, but they cost hundreds of pounds. We went to see Lord of the Rings at the theatre; the Balrog was menacing and Shelob made me jump in my seat.

♥