ell, the Story Girl was right.  There is such a place as fairyland, but only children can find the way to it. But they do not know that it is fairyland until they have grown so old that they forget the way.  One bitter day, when they seek it and cannot find it, they realize what they have lost; and that is the tragedy of life.  On that day, the gates of Eden are shut behind them, and the age of gold is over.  Henceforth, they must dwell in the common light of common day.  Only a few, who remain children at heart, can ever find that fair, lost path again, and blessed are they above mortals.  They, and only they, can bring us tidings from that dear country where we once sojourned and from which we must evermore be exiles.  The world calls them its singers and poets and artists and storytellers; but they are just people who have never forgotten their way to fairyland."

Just a few short years ago, one lonely little gnome was occasionally spotted in the undergrowth in this spruce wood.  However, a fairy kingdom is now overtaking my woodland garden.  And, according to the Story Girl, "A spruce wood is the proper place to tell fairy stories"

So, come along, then!  All it takes is a little imagination! . . . . 

 

W

Do you believe in fairies?

[Quotes are from The Story Girl, by L.M. Montgomery]

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