Faerie Wonderings

We call them faerie. We don’t believe in them.  Our loss. ~ Charles de Lint

I woke before dawn. I had gone to bed late last night and it was even later before sleep finally came, so I had expected to open my eyes this morning exhausted. Instead I felt strangely alert, surprisingly energetic. I was inexplicably happy. I don’t remember what I dreamed, but when I find myself so instantly alive upon waking I usually consider that a sign my dreams were wonderful ones. As usual, I brewed coffee first thing and, cup in hand, headed back to bed to enjoy it. It was the first time in over a week that I was able to enjoy completely that tantalizing coffee aroma as this cold of mine knocked out my sense of smell and it’s just now returning. The smell of fresh coffee really is one of my favorite things in this earth, and as it wafted up from the cup I was holding, I treasured it even more than normal. The street outside was dark and quiet, the street lamps the only thing hinting at life outside. At one of the street lamps across the street, and no this isn’t the one I’d written about before, I saw what in all likelihood were moths flying, circling beneath it. At first I marveled that I was able to see them flying from that distance, because light or no moths are rather small. To me they appeared much bigger than I would have guessed, again because of the distance. They seemed to be glowing too, which makes sense since they were flying under a street lamp, but the glow truly seemed to be coming from within them. I wondered if they could be faeries.

I’ve not been shy about sharing my desire for magic to be real, for imagining often that dragons and unicorns and elves really do grace this land, but I usually only see hints of their existence in nature. To see something in the middle of a city street is rare. I know, I know, they really were just moths lured into the inescapable trap of light. But what if they were faeries. Out flying, dancing, weaving their mischievous magic along the dark of Maine street finishing just in time to disappear at sunrise. What if every day we walk through their spells, completely unaware of their effect on our lives. What if they watch us in the daylight hours, guiding or tricking us to their own amusement. What if they're real.

Wouldn't that be something...

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