Flightingale Infirmary created by Linda, Norman & Joseph Legassie
Florence Flightingale is a faerie specializing in wing repair. Fireflies are the first-responders to the soft hush of the sunset’s glow – brightening the way for summertime fun – and even twilight painting. But what happens when a firefly scorches a wing-tip? It’s Flightingale to the rescue for all sorts of wing injuries: burned, torn, or just plain worn. Indeed, this boulder’s shoulder is a welcomed sight when fluttering troubles strike for beetles, bees, birds, and butterflies. ~ Wee Faerie Village: Land of Picture Making
Autumnal Fortress created by Kristen Thornton 10.12.12 ~ Florence Griswold Museum, Old Lyme, Connecticut
Faellan is the faerie for colorful autumn foliage. His name comes from Old English and means an abundance of leaves, aka the fall! The many colors and textures of the leaves inspire the painters in so many ways. As the leaves turn from green to gold, they capture the creative imaginations at several stages. Whether held aloft in the tree top, dancing fancifully through the autumn air, or carpeting the ground below, Faellan’s leaves are the season’s showstoppers. ~ Wee Faerie Village: Land of Picture Making
Blind folk see the fairies, Oh, better far than we, Who miss the shining of their wings Because our eyes are filled with things We do not wish to see. They need not seek enchantment From solemn, printed books, For all about them as they go The fairies flutter to and fro With smiling, friendly looks. ~ Rose Fyleman (White Magic)
Deaf folk hear the fairies However soft their song; ‘Tis we who lose the honey sound Amid the clamor all around That beats the whole day long. But they with gentle faces Sit quietly apart; What room have they for sorrowing While fairy minstrels sit and sing Close to their listening heart? ~ Rose Fyleman (White Magic)
The fairies have never a penny to spend, They haven’t a thing put by, But theirs is the dower of bird and of flower And theirs are the earth and the sky. And though you should live in a palace of gold Or sleep in a dried-up ditch, You could never be as poor as the fairies are, And never as rich. ~ Rose Fyleman (Fairies & Chimneys)
Tonight, the moon came out, it was nearly full. Way down here on earth, I could feel it’s pull. The weight of gravity or just the lure of life, Made me want to leave my only home tonight.
I’m just wondering how we know where we belong? Is it in the arc of the moon, leaving shadows on the lawn? In the path of fireflies and a single bird at dawn? Singing in between here and gone?
Mihashirano’s Tea House created by Anita Walsh 10.12.12 ~ Old Lyme, Connecticut
Mihashirano, the faerie goddess of green-growing things, works hard alongside her mom, Amaterasu, the Sun Goddess, to help things grow along the river. The plants work hard purifying the air and water as well as supplying food and shelter for many creatures. Their work also benefits the artists in many of the same ways, including natural beauty that inspires their paintings. The location for Mihashirano’s tea house was chosen by a bird. ~ Wee Faerie Village: Land of Picture Making
10.12.12 ~ Old Lyme, Connecticut
Janet, all bundled up to brave the elements, located the mystical bird and Mihashirano’s sailboat at the tea house out on the water by using binoculars provided by the fairies on the shore. It was a very wet, raw and windy day especially down by the river.
We didn’t feel anything here in southern Connecticut, but last night at 7:12 pm there was an earthquake centered in Maine, 4.6 on the Richter scale, which was strong enough to shake homes as far south as northern Connecticut. Auntie is supposed to come home from the hospital today – I wonder if they felt the tremor up north there last night… And today would have been my mother’s 81st birthday – Happy Birthday, Mom!
Between the four of us (Nate, Shea, Tim & me) we took well over a thousand pictures with the new camera over our five-day visit to Georgia. We kept taking turns getting shots and spent several evenings dazzled in front of the TV screen watching the digital slideshow of the day’s pictures. It’s been difficult to choose which ones to share here on the blog!
4.9.12 ~ Cumberland Island, Georgia
Starting off here with our day at Cumberland Island National Seashore, a 45-minute ferry ride from St. Marys, Georgia. Nate had the camera for most of this day so the majority of the shots are probably his. It’s hard to remember who had the camera when, but, he most definitely took the one of the tiny lizard puffing out his throat (above) and we are all blown away over how well it came out!
4.9.12 ~ Cumberland Island, Georgia
We had hoped to see the wild horses but all we got to see of them was their droppings and hoof-prints. However, the island was teeming with wildlife everywhere we looked, so there wasn’t much room for disappointment.
Atlantic Ocean ~ 4.9.12 ~ Cumberland Island, Georgia
Don’t give me the whole truth, don’t bring me the ocean for my thirst, don’t give me heaven when I ask for light, but give me a glimpse, a drop, a speck, as birds carry dew drops from leaves and the wind a grain of salt. ~ Olav H. Hauge (The Ways of Water)
Poquonnock River Walkway ~ 3.4.12 ~ Groton, Connecticut
Last weekend we took a short walk on the Poquonnock River Walkway because we had heard on the news that there had been a brush fire. Fortunately the fire broke out behind the Poquonnock Bridge Firehouse, but it ignited several patches of brush along the walkway before the firemen got the flames under control. Everything is so wet there it is hard to imagine how the fire might have started.
3.4.12 ~ Groton, Connecticut
There were many birds busy in the reeds and trees lining the walkway.
3.4.12 ~ Groton, Connecticut
It’s disheartening to see all the illegally discarded garbage exposed by the fire. Wish I knew why some people cannot make the effort to dispose of their waste materials properly at the “transfer station.” When I was little we called it a “dump” and we took to heart all the public service ads on TV encouraging us not to be litter bugs!
3.4.12 ~ Groton, Connecticut
For my sister and me Saturday trips to the dump were fun! Perhaps once or twice a month Dad would load up the back of his pick-up truck with our family’s trash. Beverly and I would then climb into the cab and snuggle up to our papa as closely as we could. This was back before the days of seat belts. The reason we held on tight was that the passenger door would sometimes swing open when the truck turned a corner. (The problem was eventually repaired.) What a thrilling adventure! And the chance to feel the strong arms of our father holding us securely, the chance to feel like precious cargo!
3.4.12 ~ Groton, Connecticut
On the way home from the dump we got to ride in the back of the pick-up truck! We begged and pleaded and were sometimes rewarded with a side trip up and back down Route 320, a road with many wonderfully smooth bumps – riding over them would make us feel like we left our stomachs on the truck while our bodies were lifted into the air by some mysterious force for a fraction of a moment. These days I’m sure Dad would be arrested for endangering minors, but for me these were the spicy experiences of my young life!
The whispers of shared ecstasy are choral. ~ George Steiner (Grammars of Creation)
