Faerie Feathers?

My family have always been Catholic but me and my grandmother have always been attracted or pulled towards nature. She’s really good with plants and even talks to them if that’s a little crazy but it’s worked for her.

arthur rackham woman
by Arthur Rackham.

I’ve always been good with animals, domestic and wild. They seem to know I have a good intent which allows me to help them when I feel need help.

n c wyeth 1928
by N. C. Wyeth.

I first got into reading fairy lore since I joined the missing 411 subreddit and become fascinated by how people could disappear in such weird and reoccurring circumstances. A common explanation offered that these incidents seem to be connected with the Fae.

I kept on exploring and reading about them. I listened to stories on YouTube from Scary Fairy Godmother. Somehow, I got to the point where I wanted to build them a fairy house. I still didn’t know if they were real or not, but was very curious.

So, I started on the project. I used cardboard that was in the recycling bin, painted it, and decorated with leaves, fallen petals and twigs. I was pleased with the result and decided to make a second one, this one being bigger and including a small bed and a bench.

That’s when I started finding feathers.

feather nenuphar book (2)
from Nenuphar Book.

At first it was in my backyard in a path I usually take and I just considered myself lucky and incorporated it to my second fairy house.

It was black, big and sleek.

Then I found another one in my grandma’s house.

This was weird since I found it inside the house.

It was also black but a bit smaller.

I picked it up and once again I put it inside my more elaborate fairy house.

I was so into creating the second fairy house, I didn’t even get hungry. I just wanted to finish it, make it prettier, adding more comforts to it etc.

I’ve also felt I’ve been being tested recently.

A few days ago, a hen and her chicks were in the middle of the road. I was with my mom in the car and she kept honking at them but they wouldn’t move. I got out of car and lead them to safety.

That night, my cat brought in a small bright green iguana to the house. My cat was trying to kill it. I managed to get him out of the house with treats.

Then my dog wanted to also kill it. I placed my dog in my room so it wouldn’t kill the poor iguana. I found two cardboard boxes and gently with a broom nudged the guy to go inside one of the cardboxes. Then I placed the second one on top and proceeded to go downstairs and into my backyard to safely release it.

arthur rackham 12 (2)
by Arthur Rackham.

Then my cat was smelling the box again. After all this work I wasn’t going to release the little guy just so my cat would try to kill it again. I picked up my cat, put him in my room then went down again and finally was able to set the guy free. Little guy didn’t want to leave his box so I gently touched his tail so he could get running and find somewhere safe.

I felt happy and fell asleep early which is rare with my insomnia. I dreamed I was walking again through my backyard. I found white feathers. Then I kept going and found beautiful brow, orange-ish feathers, bright blue feathers, big peacock feathers.

feather whiteI went downstairs and was tending to my dogs when I stumbled upon a fluffy white feather. I noticed it, but left in the ground and kept walking.

Then I found another, fluffy white feather right in my path. I picked it up and have placed it in my second fairy house.

I’m in awe.

There have been too many signs at the same time for them to be just coincidences.

I’d like to point out I usually don’t find many feathers, or hens with chicks standing in the road, or my cat bringing bright green lizards. I usually don’t dream about feathers or much at all really. I feel something is trying to communicate me suddenly.

I keep on finding a lot of feathers. One day I kept finding feathers in triplets. For us Catholics 3 is a holy number since we believe in the Holy Trinity, that God is made up of three distinct beings of the same divine nature. So, to me the three is significant.

I thanked them and some have been added to the houses while others I just hold it and throw them when there’s a breeze to watch them fly away.

My dreams have been vivid and weird.

sergey solomko artist (2)
by Sergey Solomko.

I had a dream which I don’t really recall, but the remarkable thing is I woke up at 5am, on my own. (Just for context I’m a college student. My sleep schedule is very much out of whack. I’m more likely to fall asleep at 5am then to wake up at that time.)

I woke in an almost trance-state.

Switched off the air conditioner and just heard the sounds of nature as everything was waking up.

I live in a rural area so I heard, the crickets, birds and all the roosters.

Then I heard humming in my left ear.

christian schloe white (2)
by Christian Schloe.

Human, or human-sounding, humming a melody I didn’t know.

I’ve tried to remember it, but honestly it just blurs out.

I didn’t feel scared, it was very calming almost like a lullaby.

I didn’t have any feelings of fear or danger.

I felt safe.

Styru, Puerto Rico.

Did this Faerie take a wrong turn?

pascal moguerou girl (2)
by Pascal Moguerou

 

I think I had an encounter which happened recently (early March 2020). I have no idea, what it was – fae or not – however, it was very strange, so I’d love to share.

It was a completely normal day, around 3 pm in the afternoon.

I was having a coffee chat with my sister (she’s 31, I’m 29) in our kitchen.

She was holding her 5 months old baby boy, while my 1 1/2 year old baby girl was sleeping in another room.

Suddenly, we heard a strange, short sound.

Later, we tried to describe it.

It was a sound of friction, the sound of heavy furniture moving on a carpet.

We immediately turned our head towards the sound – I turned right, she turned left, at the corridor door. Then we turned at each other:

Did you… see that...?!”

pascal moguerou artist (2)
by Pascal Moguerou

It lasted just for a second, but it was long enough for us to later describe the exact same thing, at the exact same spot:

there was this little, about 50 cm tall, white, human shaped… something or someone, beside the half-opened door.

Our immediate instinct was to look behind the door (there was nothing), and to check on my baby, because she was sleeping in the room next to this door. She was sound asleep.

It felt very strange, eerie. Our hearts beat faster, but we weren’t afraid, just feeling this “what on earth happened?!” vibe.

We later discussed, if her baby boy started crying, we would have freaked out for sure, but his calmness made us feel at ease too.

Still, even without this actual fear, for 3 hours we constantly felt chills, and just thinking about it made our skin crawl. We never experienced anything like this before, and haven’t since.

One of the things that puzzled us the most was the fact that we couldn’t link this experience to anything. teacup girl
We just chatted about everyday mom life stuff. Nothing special, we were relaxed.

March was a crazy month, for sure, but not only for us…
I wonder whether the fellow was a herald of all this “craziness”, but, to be honest, this explanation just doesn’t feel right.

 
It much rather felt like an ‘accidental’ meeting, an unintended lifting of the veil – to both of us. My Sister said:

It felt like, as if someone took a wrong turn.”

Beth, Hungary.

A Life with Faeries

Do you think some people are more in-tune with the Good People than others?

Are these people skilled at keeping their minds and senses alert to the Faerie around them? Or do the Good People simply like or trust them more than other people?

Bob from the U.S. has seen and sensed the Good People many times throughout his life. So in-tune is he with Faerie, that he has kept a journal of each sighting. Here, Bob shares a few more of his personal experiences with us. 

*

It is my belief that the Good People are entities of the spirit world who sometimes manifest into, and interact with, our physical world.

franz sedlacek 1933 ghosts on a tree
by Franz Sedlacek

Many of my own encounters were with the Tommyknockers underground, but there have been other encounters taking at least the appearance of many different physical forms.

In the very haunted small mountain town in which I was living in Colorado, I once saw a dark shape scurry under a friend’s automobile when we entered his garage. He saw nothing.

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At another time, in the same location, from the corner of my eye, I saw a dark something, about the size of a cat, peering at from around the side of the garbage can (or dust bin, as it is called elsewhere).

When I looked directly at it, it ducked back out of sight. I walked over and looked around it. Nothing there, nor any tracks on the fresh snow.

It could have been a ghost cat, or perhaps one of the Good People.

A few years later, I lived in the Mayfair neighborhood of Denver while recovering from cancer and its surgeries and treatments. There was a nice park a few blocks away from where I lived, and I walked my dog to the park at least twice a day.

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One feature of the park was a strip dedicated to native plants along one edge of the park. One afternoon, I suddenly spied a small dark shape dodge behind a utility box along that stretch. A check around that spot found nothing.

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Art by Cedric Laquize

A couple months later, my dog and I were taking a walk during the morning “tween” time, or morning twilight.

A small brown figure, about three inches tall, launched itself from the ground in a flurry of wings.

The rational part of my mind identified it as a large insect, perhaps a praying mantis.

But then it occurred to me that it was late January, there was a cold north wind blowing, the temperature was well below freezing, and the light of the rising sun had not yet reached the park.

There was no way this was an insect, nor a bird, nor a leaf or a piece of trash blowing on the wind.

It was in sight for about three feet, then disappeared, even though it should have been in plain view.

There were other encounters in the park.

Just past some sandbar willows in the native plants section, something small and brown, walking upright, started crossing the path ahead of us. It also appeared to be about three inches tall, and vanished while it still should have been in sight.

brian froud twinkle
by Brian Froud

Less than a week later, in the grass park of the park, my left foot struck something soft and yielding, nearly tripping me.

There was nothing to be seen, not even a tuff of turf, and it could not be felt again.

A few days later, again in the native plants section, there were a couple glimpses of something about twice as tall as the earlier brown beings, but of a sparkly, twinkly silver appearance.

There was also a possible appearance in my apartment one evening.

I was reading, and saw something white flutter down from the top of a bookshelf to the floor, but nothing could be found.

Also in that apartment were encounters with what I dubbed “fuzzballs”.

Also seen elsewhere, these were indistinct black shapes about the size of golfballs which would scurry for about a foot or do, then vanish, even on an open floor.

Eventually, Colorado was left behind, and I moved back to my boyhood state of Ohio. Our dawn walks continued, often in a park along the river, where many animals could be found, but other things as well, including sighting a small white being that was twirling around on the ice of the frozen river one winter morning.

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A very interesting encounter occurred almost exactly one year after the encounter with the being that I mistook for a mantis.

jean baptiste monge boy (2)
by Jean Baptiste Monge

On a dawn walk, this time in a residential neighborhood which has lots of trees and flowers, I briefly spied a small brown fairy flying along.

In that instant, I knew that my daughter, who was living in Switzerland at the time, had given birth to her first child. My son-in-law telephoned a few hours later with the news.

More recently, last Autumn, I was crossing a bridge over a major highway.

The highway was well lit, as was the street I was following, but the bridge itself was not lighted.

It was well before dawn, and the temperature was cold. A light suddenly appeared in the air over the bridge, at about fifty feet above me I reckoned.

It was moving across the wind, meandering a bit. It was of an off-white color about the size of a large butterfly. It was in sight for about thirty feet, then vanished.

 Bob, U.S.

The Gift of Freedom

Part of the lore about the Good People is that they can use glamour to make things, including themselves, appear to be something different.

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A Fairy might take on the appearance of a mouse or of a butterfly, for example, or might make a pile of acorns look like a trove of gold coins, or to make physical object invisible.

When I was still in Denver, I had a number of occurrences with butterflies which seemed very strange. I do believe that in some cases the butterflies may have actually been Fairies using glamour, or at the very least actual butterflies were being controlled by the Good People or other entities of the spirit world.

man in park

It started innocently enough. I was still recovering from cancer and was frequently at the veteran’s hospital in Denver. Whenever possible, I would walk to and from my appointments, and I would vary my routes.

One day I passed an absolutely delightful garden with many different kinds of flowers. Recalling what I had been taught about nature spirits, I mentally greeted each clump of flowers as I walked by.

garden

Near the end of the garden, one particular cluster of flowers caught my attention. I greeted it and praised it, and immediately there was a very strong and wonderful aroma, which vanished after a few seconds.

About two months later, I was passing the garden again, and this time I caught a glimpse of a Fairy’s wings flickering behind a clump of flowers.

butterflies

A month after that, I passed by that garden again, and mentally projected a greeting to whomever might be listening.

Immediately, a half dozen butterflies, later identified as American Painted Ladies, sprang up from the garden, and circled around me several times, not more than a foot away.

Then they landed back on the flowers again.

For the rest of that summer and fall, there were similar encounters with butterflies almost constantly.

If I stepped outside my home, I would often be greeted by one or more.

butterfly2If none were there, I would mentally project, “Where’s my little friends?” and one or more would appear.

One day, one of them went on our walk with my dog and me.

It would fly ahead, land and wait for us, then once more fly ahead when we caught up, over and over.

Part of this relationship may have stemmed from an incident.

Walking back from the neighborhood market on a sunny day, I saw an injured American Painted Lady fluttering about on the asphalt of the market’s parking lot.

park in shadeIt was missing one of its four wings, an injury from which it could not recover.

The asphalt was very hot that sunny day, and it came to me that if I were injured and dying, I would prefer not to be doing it on hot asphalt.

I very gently picked it up and carried it to a nearby shady, grassy area where it could die more comfortable.

As I released it there, I hit with a very strong reaction of approval, along the lines of, “As you have done it unto least of these my brethren.. ”

Some time later, my dog and I were once again walking to the park, and we encountered a woman and her young daughter, who we had met on other walks.

They carried a net, and the girl, who was about four or five years of age, was carrying a small cage box.

Wanna see my butterfly?” she asked, excitedly.

My heart sank a bit.

Somehow, I knew what she had in her cage.

butterfly

I did not remonstrate, as she was so innocently proud of her capture, and I do recognize that not everyone shares my beliefs, so I simply asked what sort of butterfly she had.

They didn’t know, so she opened the box enough for me to see that yes, indeed, it was an American Painted Lady.

butterfly american painted lady2

I told her what she had, but then was prompted to add something.

Did you know that sometimes when people think they see a butterfly, it really isn’t?” I asked.

Yes, sometimes it is a moth,” she replied.

True,” I acknowledged, “but some people believe that sometimes when you see a butterfly, it is actually a Fairy“.

Having given her some food for thought, my dog and I continued to the park. It came to me very strongly that perhaps I should have added that if she made a wish on her butterfly and set it free, the Fairies might grant the wish.

And as we continued on our walk, we had many of my little friends fluttering about us, with one almost landing on my dogs nose.

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The next day, we encountered the little girl again. And I asked how her butterfly was doing. Her reply warmed my heart.

“Oh,” she said, “we turned it loose.”

Coincidence? I don’t believe so.

Bob – U.S.

butterfly american painted lady3

Faerie Music in a Cedar Grove.

cedar trees

I was with a friend. We were high atop Mount Fernan of the Rockies, way beyond cell-service range, in a grove of ancient cedar trees.

We were sitting beneath a massive cedar tree, besides a stream, and we asked the Faeries to join us. We sat for quite awhile, talking and laughing, when suddenly we heard this lovely ethereal music, very jovial and celebratory!

It seemed as close as the other side of the stream, but I did not see any entities. It was just the loveliest, most wonderful music.

– Rachael.

ida rentoul outhwaite music
By Ida Rentoul Outhwaite.

 

 

Encounters with Tommyknockers

knocker mine

I worked for several years as a guide on an historic silver mine tour during it’s annual 100+ day season. Actually, I worked one off season as a miner in a gold mine, and the following summer was a tour guide there. I also spent several months working on a mine closing project. This was all in Colorado in the 1990s.

I am a clairvoyant and have had many experiences with ghosts, the little people (or the Good People, as you prefer), and a few entities I don’t know how to label. So, here goes about the Tommyknockers.

Tommyknockers are entities who live underground, who can and do interact with humans who are underground. Sometimes they are seen. Belief in them is widespread, and they are known by many names, in many places.

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Calling them Knockers or Tommyknockers comes from the miners in Cornwall, and is the name generally used by hardrock miners in North America, because of the many Cornish miners who worked here in the 1800s.

I’ve been told that in Wales, from where some of my mother’s ancestors came, they were called the Koblinau.

One day at the gold mine, I was telling a tour group about the Tommyknockers, and a lady who was from Czechoslovakia (before it became the Czech Republic), spoke up and said that they had such beings in her old country. She called them the Permonik. (There should be an inverted v symbol over the E but I don’t have that font.)

A week or so later, at the silver mine, there was a lady from the Czech Republic on the tour. When I got to the part about the Tommyknockers, I stopped and asked her if she knew about the Permonik. The question surprised her, but she admitted that she did. I asked her to please tell the group about them. She did, and what she said was almost word for word what I normally told groups about them.

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Like most of the little people, the Tommyknockers can be anything from friendly and helpful, to malicious and vindictive. According to the lore, they might knock on the rock or timbers to warn a miner of danger (and, seriously, rock and timber noise can be a sign of danger), or they might blow out his candle, back in the days when they worked by candlelight.

There are stories of them leading lost miners to safety after they lost their lights, and even of them leading the miners to richer ore. On the other hand, they might also put out a miner’s light maliciously, dump his lunch, hide his tools or drop them down a winze, trip him, and so on.

Because of this, many miners had a habit of leaving a bit of food or tobacco for them, and some mines even had carved images of Tommyknockers at the portals, for the miners to touch for luck going in, or in thanks when coming out safely.

Such heathen practices were undoubtedly preached against on Sunday morning, but then again, the preacher wasn’t the one going underground into the Tommyknocker’s territory the other six days of the week!

When I first started working at the silver mine tour, I wasn’t sure about the Tommyknockers, and didn’t bother bringing them up. Then one day (before I worked at the gold mine) I was visiting the gold mine, and the owner offered me a chance to go down into the older parts of the mine, far below the level where visitors normally were allowed.

With a borrowed helmet and lamp, I descended an old wooden ladder down the winze into the old workings, various levels a hundred feet apart dating back to the 1800s. I was alone, and the only light was the one on my helmet.

It was strange, so quiet and hushed. But I wasn’t alone. I could feel someone with me, showing me around. It wasn’t scary at all. It was a warm feeling. I explored the lower reaches of the mine, then eventually climbed back up to the main level and daylight.

After that, I started noticing things like movement in the corners, and sounds, when underground. I read whatever I could find about the Tommyknockers, and I started telling visitors about them. Perhaps because I was friendly and respectful, I had few problems with them (although that was not the case with some others of the little people, but that’s another story).

Granted, most of the visitors didn’t consider the Tommyknockers as much more than an amusing piece of mining folklore, but with most groups there was usually someone, often a child, who was quite interested.

One one tour, there was a Lakota from Canada who was quiet during the tour, but who got quite interested when I started talking about the Tommyknockers. He listened intently then nudged the person with him. “He’s talking about the Little People!” he exclaimed. I spoke with him for a while after the tour, and he shared some beliefs which were very similar.

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Unfortunately, there were also those, usually adolescent males, who would interrupt me to scoff at such things.

I was willing to overlook such rudeness, but the Tommyknockers weren’t.

Mocking the Tommyknockers when one is underground is very foolish.

When it happened on my tour, someone would get hurt. It was never the rude scoffer, but rather the adult who was with them.

It would be minor things, like bumping one’s head, or tripping and falling, it scraping one’s hand on the rock, but it happened every time.

I have no idea why the escorting adult was targeted rather than the young scoffer, but that is what happened. I decided to take action. One day I went back into the mine by myself, and respectfully told the Tommyknockers that the scoffers were young, stupid and ignorant, but hurting people was not acceptable. I knew I couldn’t force the Tommyknockers to behave, but I pointed out that I was their friend, and asked was I not always respectful?

I told them that I could stop telling people about them, however, and that is what I was going to do, if the retaliation didn’t end. Apparently, they enjoyed being talked about, and so there was no more retaliations, at least not on my tours.

Actually it seemed that at least some of the Tommyknockers enjoyed interacting with the tours. Quite often, when the tales were being told, when the knocking on rocks was mentioned, there would be a knocking on the rocks with uncannily perfect timing, from the closed part of the mine.

One day when I was taking a tour off, another guide came up to me after his tour and told me that I had caused quite a sensation during his tour. I asked him what he was talking about. He replied, “All those Tommyknocker noises.” I assured him that I hadn’t set foot in the mine during that tour, and all the other guides had been busy with their own groups.

One day, I had a new employee going on my tour with me to see how it was done.

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When I mentioned knocking on the rocks, there was very definite knocking on the rocks, which got at least some reaction from the visitors.

Afterword, the new employee asked, “Where’s the button?”.

Puzzled, I asked, “What button?”.

The button you push to make the Tommyknocker noises,” she replied.

No, my dear, there was no such button.

*

Part of the folklore about which I was skeptical were the reports about Tommyknockers celebrating Christmas. Although I was aware that the Little People reportedly like celebrations, I considered that celebrating Yule was much more likely for the Tommyknockers, than Christmas would be.

But be that as it may, I walked up through the snow to the mine one cold December night, and let myself in. I didn’t turn on the electric mains, but used a personal light to go several hundred feet into the mine. I sat down on a bench in the well- timbered area we called the lunchroom, lit a candle, and switched off my light and waited.

After a bit, I asked if the Tommyknockers were there. Immediately, right in front of me, there was the sharp sound of two rocks knocking together, even though no loose moving rocks were to be seen.

I asked if that was the Tommyknockers, and once again, there was an immediate clashing together of two unseen rocks. Well, that was good enough for Galena Bob!

I had hoped to sing for them (Welsh ancestry on my mother’s side, you recall), as I had been told the Good People enjoy music, but I had a sore throat, and had to whistle instead.

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I whistled every holiday tune I knew.

After a time, even that began irritating my throat, and I knew that I was going to have to stop soon.

I wished them a happy holiday, turned on my light, and blew out the candle.

As I walked along the adit, heading back to the portal, I resumed whistling.

And someone began whistling along with me…

One more piece of information. Although this extreme behavior is outside my own experience, MaryJoy Martin in her book ‘Twilight Dwellers of Colorado’, reports that the Martin R. Mine at Cripple Creek, Colorado, had Tommyknockers who were extremely vicious.

They would, she reports, deliberately lead miners into danger. They would break timbers and cut cables, and caused premature blasts.

Galena Bob. U.S.

The Kindly Dwarf

A few years ago while I was living in Maine in the North East of the United States I had a dream/vision encounter with a Dwarf.

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I had come in from working at my Forge and had sat down on the couch after a shower and was thinking about the work I had done that day and all of a sudden I was in a dream, but it was very real and didn’t feel or seem like a dream at the time.

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I saw in my yard, near where the Forge was, a Dwarf with a rich royal blue cloak with a hood on.

The fabric was very sturdy, but soft looking like wool broadcloth but finer, and very saturated with color.

The cloak had a beautiful silver and black geometric border around the edges of the cloak and it was clasped with a gold or brass clasp with a different rune on each side. He had on a medium green belted tunic with brown pants underneath.

He had kind dark shining eyes like polished onyx. He smiled at me as if he knew me well and said “you are doing good work.”

dwarf darrel bevan artist
 

‘Dwarf’ by Darrel Bevan. www.facebook.com/DarrelBevan

 

It felt for all the world as if this Dwarf were related to me and reminded me very strongly of my paternal grandfather. I felt like I should know him.

He was obviously shorter than me but as he spoke to me it was as if we were both at eye level with me.

I’m not sure if I spoke or not or if he said anything else but I feel as if we are related somehow if that is possible.

One other event took place about a month ago where I live now in Missouri in the central U.S.

tuce-dus_-8CyBJ8-unsplash I was coming home from work after midnight one night and as I pulled into my driveway with my windows down I thought I heard voices talking in whispers on the other side of the house. 

I shut the car off rolled up the windows and opened the door. Out of the corner of my eye I thought I saw a small crouched person coming around the car thinking it was one of the kids I looked over but saw nothing.

I heard the voices talking again but could not understand what they were saying.

The words didn’t make sense.

Thinking it was still the kids coming to scare dad I looked around the other side of the house and on the porch.annie-spratt-pQ29Y-o_wPU-unsplash

I heard the voices closer this time but saw nothing, the voices seemed to be mischievously having fun at my expense even though I couldn’t understand them, but in a playful good natured way.

I went inside and my children were all accounted for and hadn’t come outside at all.

Not sure what to make of these but that’s what happened.

John – Missouri, U.S.

6 Short Tales of Encounters with the Good People

It’s true, some people, and some families, are more open to sensing and seeing The Good People. Michael shares with us 6 short tales of his experience and knowledge of The Good People. 

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One.

My aunt May from Ireland, as a little girl, was out in the woods in Ireland, and she got lost. She told me that a beautiful lady in white appeared to her. She was radiant. The lady guided her out of the woods.

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And then she was gone. Knowing about the Celtic deities, I wondered if it might be a form of one of the Celtic goddesses. But I don’t really know.

Two.

Again, my aunt May, but as an adult, was watching over my grandmother’s sister, Ana, who was on her deathbed, not expected to live. She was a gifted lady in that she was known to see the Good People, reluctantly — because she was a good Catholic.

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Well, one day, she turned to my aunt May and said, “May, would you tell the little men on my bed to go away.” My aunt May then said, “Okay, you guys, swoosh! Go on now. Be on your way.”

And she swept the bedspread with her hands. She said, “Okay, Ana, there all gone now, see.” Ana, turned to my aunt May and replied, “Oh, thank God! I feel so much better now.”

Three.

My aunts and uncles, I was told, on occasions — when they were children — they would look for the Good People. As for myself, I am like my aunt Ana. I have seen the Good People all my life, so I have had many encounters.

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Four.

When I was a little child, about 5 years old, I was at my other grandmothers sister’s house. She kept a beautiful flower garden. So many beautiful flowers. I left everyone, and went for a walk through her garden.

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Suddenly, little balls of light appeared and danced all about me and around me. I remember feeling so happy and giggling, laughing. It was an entirely magical experience.

The Good People were so interested and curious about me. It was an amazing exchange of energy between us. After a while I was being called in to the house, and the Good People retreated away. It looked like they disappeared into the woods behind the house.

Five.

When I was in the cub scouts, we went on an outing in the woods in the state park. We were all sitting around a campfire toasting marshmallows. I sensed that there were eyes in the woods watching us.

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Later, as the fire was starting to die down, it was getting late and the smoke was in my eyes. It was an almost hypnotic effect.

Then I turned, and I clearly saw a little man standing high on a big, gray rock at the head of our circle. He wore a furry shirt, like a two toned animal skin; and he had a walking stick in hand. He was laughing and dancing around on the rock. He was soooo pleased with himself, because he knew no one could see him.

But I saw him; and I felt that he knew it. After, about several minutes, he disappeared.

Six.

When I lived in Colorado, I traveled way up in the Rocky Mountains, right outside Rky. Mnt. Nat. Pk., where I spent the night in a motel. I was relaxing, reading a book, when little beings of light came in and fluttered about my bed.

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They were very curious. I said, “Hello, welcome.” I think they were curious about the meditations I had been doing. They stayed for a little while, until their curiosity was completely satisfied. Then they left.

In the morning, before I left, I left some of my food, with some water, by the side of the front door for the Good People.

*

Well, that is some of my stories. I hope you enjoyed them. I enjoyed sharing them. I don’t always get the chance to share these stories. Thank you for asking me to share them.

Michael.

Faerie Photos on the Isle of Man – John H.

We conclude our special feature from John Hall and his Faerie adventures on the Isle of Man with a series of photos.

John took all these photos himself and has kindly shared them with us here on Faerie of Ireland. Some of these images have been published in Janet Bord’s book ‘The Traveller’s Guide to Fairy Sites’ by Gothic Publications, and are also mentioned in two other of her publications. Hope you enjoy, let me know what you think….

Cheers, Kitty.

*

Pic 06
 The muddy path looking back down the area of the experience 

Pic 07
 The actual picture of the Stick Figure in the tree canopy, (top centre) as I was having this weird sensation. 

Pic 08A filter
 Enlargement close up of Figure. 

Pic 08B filter
 Further colour filter close ups. 

Pic 08C filter
 Different colour filter close up. 

Pic 09
 Another colour filter close up. 

Pic 10
 Last enlargement with alternative colour filter. 

Pic 11
 Upper Glen Auldyn looking toward the Slate Quarries where small figures where seen dancing.

The Midnight Walker

This occurred in the summer of the year 2019, in Manorhamilton. County Leitrim, Ireland.mai caravan (2)

For about a month and a half, I was living in a caravan in the backyard of a man I was working for. Most nights were peaceful and quiet, but some nights I could hear someone, or something, walking around the caravan.

Every time I would look out of the window, I would see nothing, even though I would clearly hear someone walking right beside the caravan. The yard was surrounded by very high walls, so no human could enter the premises.

mais wall (2)

It could not have been my boss, as the noises happened also at nights when he was away in Dublin. And even if he wasn’t, I don’t know of any man that can circle a caravan yet be invisible, especially since in the beginning of the Irish summer even as late as 11:30 there’s still light outside, so if anything visible was there, I would see it.

I know it could not have been any animal, since the sounds of this “being” walking around the caravan was clearly something which was walking on two legs, one step at a time. The steps were always graceful and gentle, yet too heavy, and two-legged to be any animal that lives in Ireland.

And all of that is without regarding how any human or huge animal could cross the walls surrounding the premises? Or more than that, be invisible? It clearly sounded like as if a grown human was walking there, yet each time I would take a look, nothing was visible. After I established it was no human or animal, I tried to think what could it be, but found no logical explanation.

mais moon (2)Most nights it was quiet. But even the nights in which I did hear the noises of something circling the caravan, it was seldom something that went on all night. But things changed towards my last two weeks there.

One night a friend of mine came over to stay at my place. So we both slept in the caravan that night. We were about to fall asleep, but then started hearing noises of something walking around the caravan. That’s when I knew none of it was my imagination playing games on me, it was all real.

My friend got a bit nervous, but I told him to not worry too much and to go to sleep. I was very tired and fell asleep right away. But in the morning, my friend shared with me he experienced several strange things at night after I fell asleep. He said he saw a human size shadow passing by the window, and claims to have heard knocking on the caravan for a long time until he finally fell asleep. When he shared with me what he has heard and seen, I wasn’t surprised at all.

The days went by, and every now and then I would hear the walking noises and soft knocking. And then came my last week in the caravan, after that I was due to leave and move on to my next destination in Ireland.

One night I went to sleep, and the walking noises woke me up for being so strong. It made me feel quite uncomfortable. I stayed up and listened to the eerie noises. Since they were louder than usual, I was now afraid of this unknown being. And even though it never caused me any harm, I started banging on the caravan’s wall, to cast away the being. A side in me wanted to let this being expose itself to me, as it was no ordinary experience. But my biological instincts were too strong, and made me fear the unknown being. Not long after I fell asleep.

Another day has passed, and night came. But no noises were heard that night, as if the being knew it was no longer wanted and welcomed.  The night after that was my last night in the caravan before moving on to a new place. I was utterly baffled, I kept telling myself that I still don’t know what that being was, and that it was my last chance to see what it was.  But at the same time, I could not forget how fearful I was last time I had heard the being. Right before I went to bed, I circled the caravan to see if I could see or hear anything, but nothing was there.

I went to bed with a strong sour feeling, knowing I won’t have another chance to see the being, all because I couldn’t overcome my natural fear of the unknown. I had a genuine will by then to encounter the being again. And just as I thought that, I heard the being once more. The walking noises around the caravan were now louder than ever. As soon as that happened I was struck with fear and regretted my wish to encounter the being once more. The noises were so much more profound that night, I really couldn’t ignore them and go to sleep. It was as if the being knew it was my last night there and wanted to make contact with me.

mai shadow (2)

Being more afraid than any of the nights before, I banged on the caravan walls as strong as I could, and shouted at the being to leave me alone in every language I can speak. But it was all in vain, the noises kept on going.

As loud as the noises were this time, they were still soft and gentle. Desperate what to do, I rang my mother all the way to the other side of the world for advice. She tried to think of logical explanations, but when all were ruled out, she asked me what did I think it was.

Studying the world of Faerie was something I had done all my life, yet I never heard of such an encounter. Some Faerie beings are tricksters, who like to mess around with people and scare them, but I was certain that wasn’t the case, since the being could scare me way more if it wanted to. It could scream, and bang the caravan with power to achieve “Maximum mischief”, but the noises were always gentle and soft.

Additionally, I could never see the being, when a classic mischiefer would wear a scary appearance to scare you as much as possible, yet I could never see it. After assuming it was no faerie (even though there thousands of types of faeries, and I cannot rule it out completely as we have such little knowledge of all the kinds), I started thinking of a new, different direction. Could it be, well, a ghost?

Reading about ghost encounters in the past, it was indeed similar to what I was experiencing. Still on the phone with my mother, (a complete sceptic regarding such topics) she noted her great aunt always claimed ghosts were usually simply misunderstood. My mother told me “Mai, did this being ever do anything to harm you? Maybe it’s just trying to befriend you.”

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After that, since it was late, we ended the call and I had time to think of what my mother had told me. The more I thought about it, and thought of all that happened so far, the more it made sense to me. This ghost never did anything aggressive towards me. I became silent and wanted to see what will happen. But the noises still scared the biological side of me, so I decided to watch a show on my laptop in bed to distract myself from the noises. But I was more receptive to the ghost now.

I said to the being in the night air that I’m sorry for trying to cast it away, and that it is welcomed to stay. I watched my show and still heard the noises in the background. When the episode on my laptop ended, I clearly heard a soft, yet clear feminine voice saying a word which I could not understand. I was astonished, but too scared to keep listening.

I put another episode, and when it ended I heard the exact same soft voice saying that word once more. By now it was very, very late, and I put on another episode and fell asleep.

In the morning, still in awe by the night events, I walked around the caravan to see something that shocked me. A huge hole in the stone wall. I looked inside the hole, and there was an abandoned home. “How didn’t I noticed that before?”, I thought to myself.

Later that day I asked my boss who used to live there, and he said he did not know, but that it’s been abandoned for at least more than 20 years.

mais ghost (2)

And so, me and the ghost parted ways. I often wonder who was the ghost and what did it want from me. Based on all I’ve heard, I think the being was some sort of form of a female ghost. I guess I’ll never know. But I and the being will always have the memories of our time together.

I often wonder what would have happened if I was more brave that night.

Mai