Eyes of wonder ; my eyes as a child . I was dazzled by flowers . They enchanted me . I knew all their names . My mother taught me . She taught me to sing to them , and to ask their forgiveness and to thank them , before I ever plucked one . Their spirits would be at peace that way , and would welcome me when I encountered them again .At other times or in other gardens .
Never make an enemy of a fairy .
She taught me how to make fairy crowns each summer . My favorites we would make in June , weaving daisies and sometimes roses into headdresses adorned them with vines , and other flowers . Singing songs , plaiting and winding the stems of the flowers, my mother taught me to honor their spirits , and to reach out to them with song . She taught me how to feel out melodies , to speak to them to find their songs , trying several until the right tones came .
Songs call out the fairies . The right tone once found , resonates , and calls them out . One must be very quiet , and in a solitary place to call them . Different spirits of Nature respond to different sounds . Some instruments can call them out of their hiding , like the pipes of Pan .The veil between our worlds is shattered . The song is a passe partout … it opens the doors , and they are freed , Curious , they step into our dimension . we can feel them , sometime we can see them , and sometime , sometimes , they put on their glaomour , and opening their doors , welcome us into their realm of perception .
Midsummer is the portal . We can then step through the veils of parallel dimensions , fairy walking . Enter the world of Flora and Persephone , of our Goddess Gaiia . A world of greem ; of plants and flowers . Entering the fairy realm , we can then ask for teaching and seek knowledge , asking their guidance . That is the place of shamans and healers . My hand was taken , and I was led there .
The fairy blood runs in my own veins , always passed through the maternal side . My Mother and her Mother had been schooled in the old arts by their mothers and grandmothers before them . A long line of pagan queens , they nurtured each girl child in the old ways as they had been for generations past .
Gathering seeds , saying prayers ,they sang their songs ,roadmaps to another world , gleaning , brewing , spreading their love and their knowledge . And healing …. with the whispered gifts of fairies .
Working beside her in gardens . Loving and tending the earth . Sifting it and digging it to come close to its’ secrets .
How can one be a healer if you do not know the language of the herbs and plants and flowers … How can you be its’ lover if you have not tended the rose , and been pricked by its; thorns ? But , I am getting so far ahead … years forward .I want to stay there still for a moment longer . Weaving chains of daisies as I did as a child , singing songs , and dreaming of the dreams that I would one day weave into my own crown of flowers .