I saw on the Karmapolice blog a video called The Fairy Faith (in 6 parts, see below) and it got me thinking about the Fey and other local earth based spirits I have worked with over the decades. I am blessed to live up against one of the Appalachian mountains along a beautiful stream on about an acre of property that has no one around except one nice quiet neighbor. He goes by his middle name but his first named is actually Loyal and he is a Mason, so he is OK with me.
When I moved here 9 years ago the sacredness of the land soon became apparent to me, or maybe it is just the Witch in me that makes it so. Below you will see some pictures and descriptions of spots I have felt to be spaces of the fey near me.
I do not refer to these entities as fey but as spirits of the land. I am not particularly psychic and rarely “see” spirits, but as times I can feel them, and often the feeling is just the awe of beauty of a certain spot. Alternately some spots just feel bad, especially if they have been polluted by the hands of man. And some places are just physically dangerous, like the high water, and that is easy to feel viscerally.
My theory is that such spirits appear in the overlapping bubbles of my consciousness of them and of the earth energies reaching out to communicate with me. I consider the face and form I put on them as egregores of a sort. Sometimes the manifestation is more from my mind, but often it is pushing from the land and earth itself. I think in my case here it was the land welcoming someone who it knew would take care of it as best I could. Others who have the sight tell me the Indian spirits come down from the mountain to be here. I felt and almost saw one before at the Chief Stone listed below. It was a man with a deer head and I can still see him to this day. And I could see the old man in the cave under the stone when I looked in my vision meditating there. And I feel the Indian spirit of this mountain at times is visiting the 1935 era white cabin next to my house and I have a little altar over there for him. I also feel and sometimes hear voices in the stream behind the house, and protect that those are the voices of the Naginis of the water, and I make offerings to them and prayers to them of flowers and pretty rocks and even silver at times.
Regarding other egregores there are the spirits in the statues and stones and altars around the house, but those were mostly evoked like calling on a Watchtower Angel to manifest. They are not of the land as much as from the higher Self and mind, from God so to speak.
Out across the stream I had a large old oak which a friend who knows his stuff estimated to be around 300 years or more of age. It was barely hanging on with life in the top branches and was hollow, but still solid. Where one lower branch had fallen off a long time ago the knot in the tree formed the head of a bear, no imagination needed. So I called that tree the Bear Oak and considered it to be the God tree of the property. Two years ago the gypsy moths finally ate the last of the live growth and it stood solid for awhile until the heavy rains of last summer finally loosened it up enough that it fell with a crash one night. It was beautiful in death as in life. I was depressed when the old oak tree fell but then felt happy with all its progeny growing up around it. So now I have other fairly old oaks, and a tulip poplar and some large white pines that view for the God tree title.
I have a bunch of hornbeam trees growing up one stream bed, and they do not seem to get very big, but this one seemed the Daddy tree of them all. I love the hard wood, which used to be used to make axe handles, and they have an almost 90* angle to most of the branches, and bark looks like muscle almost. I have made some nice walking sticks from some of these saplings.
The stream, called a run here, is very beautiful as it falls down rock shade strata. Usually it is low and calm, but since it drains about 25 square miles of mountain it can come up fast and high, and luckily go down almost as fast. I worship the Nagas and Naginis of the stream for their beauty and for their kindness in not flooding my house.
About a half mile up stream on my relative’s property is a nice pool of water that I took this pretty incredible picture of a carp in. I love the blue reflections of the sky and the ripple on the surface. This pool has some sacred potential, but the relatives kids all swim in it at holidays and disturb it way too much, but that is only a few days a year.
Here’s a picture of an Indian site called Chief Stone across the river and way up another valley. I saw a picture of it in a friend’s uncle’s old local history book, and we rediscovered it again decades ago. I doubt if many people nearby even know what it is. The story is that the last of the local Indians died there of yellow fever and they buried their chief under this stone, which was toppled in place into a small mountain spring.
Finally I want to recommend what I think is the best book on the Fey I have read, called Through the Faerie Glass – a Look at the Realm of Unseen and Enchanted Beings by Kenny Klein.
As the leaves have all mostly fallen, especially after the hurricane, I can feel Autumn creeping into Winter, and await the beauty of the snow on the grey land to dress her up a bit. Except for my health, I am blessed. Blessed Be.
Here’s Part 1 of The Fairy Faith, which is a beautifully filmed documentary and I hope you can get through the Scottish brogue and Irish lilt.