Look who I saw sparkling about in my garden this morning!

Mitzi, a fairy friendly, fuzzy little Fairy Dog wanna be!

Fairies arrive in the wee early hours of dawn.

Virginia Bluebells
(mertensia virginia)

Virginia Bluebells in full ring this morning, thousands of them carpet the gardens along with forget me knots. Virginia Bluebell (mertensia virginia) perennial, zones 3-9, shade,early spring bloomer. Prolific, small bulbs divide as well as self sows then dies back and greenery disappears in the heat of summer. A  cottage garden favorite of the fairies.

Magic happens in every garden.

All one has to do is look!

Fairies are mischievous, don’t you know?

Tiny wonders everywhere!

This morning I was pleasantly surprised when I spied this little fairy sniffing daffodils before she scampered through the arbor giggling .

Just saying….

During daylight’s hottest hours, Home Place Fairy Folk enter the Enchanted Forest seeking shade.

After a morning of hard work tending gardens they rest, napping inside cozy chambers hidden deep within an ancient oak tree.

It is during the cooler hours of dawn and again at twilight that fairies dance into gardens, scattering fairy dust, helping plants to flourish and grow.

photo credit E.M.

Poetry

Websters definition;

po-et-ry

noun

Literary work in which special intensity is given to the expression of feelings and ideas by the use of distinctive style and rhythm; poems collectively or as a genre of literature.

The following excerpt from the poem Little Gidding was written in the year 1942 and is the fourth and final poem of T.S. Eliot’s, Four Quartets, a series of poems that discuss time, perspective, humanity, and salvation.

Thomas Stearns Eliot won the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1948 and remains a highly distinguished poet, publisher, essayist, playwright and critic.

He was born in St. Louis Missouri in 1888.

Little Gidding by T.S. Eliot

Music; On the Nature of Daylight by Max Richter

So much snow

The little farmhouse is buried deep .

My gardens are dormant; asleep beneath a thick carpet of white wet snow.

The Home Place Fairy Folk are burrowed  cozy and warm in their chambers, snug along the root-line of a great oak tree, far below where the frost fingers glow.

They play music on pan pipes, harps, flutes and marimbas, they sort seeds and dance the slow waltz of fairies in winter, contently waiting the return to their gardens come spring.

Dare to dream and watch your wishes grow.