Snow Faerie Dance

Snow Faerie Dance
*
Beautiful they fall,
Dancing to the ground.
Almost cannot see them,
Unless you know to LOOK
Glittery white figures,
Disguised as flakes of snow,
See the bigger picture,
Their figures you’ll behold.
They still my breath,
As they twirl,
And melt into the snow,
Ice crystal maids,
Or is it gents?
I ‘fess I cannot tell,
They have no clothes,
They wear no dress,
They’re beyond you and me.
So next the snow is falling fast,
Look through one flake, you’ll see,
The figure of a faerie dance,
On snowy winter Eves. 

Photography by Saronai

Photography by Saronai

Another old poem of mine.  I hope you enjoyed it.

“What should I write about today?”  The question I asked my son and the girl I babysit some mornings.

“Fairies!”  Michayla declared.

My son agreed.  And so, today’s post origins.  I based that poem on the following true story.

While pregnant with my son, I gave in to an impulse to bundle up nice and tight and lay a thick blanket out on the snow-covered ground one night.  The look of snow sparkling through the street lamps to glitter across the ground held me transfixed.  As I watched, soon the individual flakes blurred, the way you see when you look at images hidden in a pattern.

No kidding, as soon as that happened, I gasped.  Unexpected, I saw dozens of figures dancing to the ground.  It shocked me right back into the sparkling individual flakes, but they readily appeared again when I refocused my vision.

As described in the poem, they wore no obvious clothing.  Their bodies, composed of light blue and white crystal, smooth and sharp, all graceful, bore no obvious marks of gender.  Their hair moved like swirls of sparkling white winds around them.  I enjoyed the performance until the wind kicked up and disrupted the dance.  Watching them jangle into each other, thrown to the ground, turned the wind into a monster.

A bit frightened I rushed inside out of the wind uncertain about what, if anything, I should do.  Did the harsh winds always disrupt their dance so?  Or did something dark cause that wind?  Or was it all my over-active imagination?  I shared my story with my then fiancé, he claimed later that he looked at the snow the way I instructed and saw them too.  I’m unsure if he was just humoring me.

I watched them once more several years ago, shortly after Michael’s birth, during a car ride.  I’ve not tried since.  My memory is vivid and holds magic, what if I try looking and see nothing at all?  What if they only appeared because of Michael?  What if I look again, and all I find is snow?  With it goes a bit of lost magic and wonder.  I procrastinate until the snow stops falling; decision made for me.

A curious piece to this experience came recently to me.  According to the Cherokee website, my ancestors believed in Little People, nature spirits of a sort.  These Little People, described as much smaller versions of Native Americans, hair often to the ground, look very little like the snow faeries I saw.  However, they frequently “befuddle” the person that bothers or intrudes.  What’s more, you aren’t supposed to speak of the encounter after nightfall, nor for seven years after.

I spoke of it immediately.  I don’t think I bothered them, but ever since late-term pregnancy I do most of my thinking through a cloud.  Lack of sleep, or perhaps because I broke the seven-year-rule?

I’m sure my doctor will look at me funny to suggest it.  She’ll probably want to test me for thyroid problems instead.  That’s fair, I suppose.  After all, I doubt a you-were-befuddled-by-Little-People medical test exists.

Photography by Saronai

Photography by Saronai

Without breaking the seven-year-rule, have you ever seen something of questionable existence?  I’d love to hear about it in comments!

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About Saronai

I'm an eclectic amalgam of confusingly combined oddities. PS If I liked your post it means I really liked your post. You don't have to visit back, but it would be nice. Either way, I read it because I wanted to and liked it because I did. I don't do the fake like for returns thing :)
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10 Responses to Snow Faerie Dance

  1. Great post today thanks. I really enjoyed reading it very much.

    Thanks again for posting this.

    Today’s Poem – Raining Purple Rain

  2. AG says:

    I love this! Wow, I really, really love this…I love the idea that there are creatures all around, watching out for us…that we could see them if we just allow ourselves to. Thank you for making magic not seem so far away =D

    • Saronai says:

      Happy to share! I added the Cherokee folklore and medicine bit simply because the thought amused me. My mind really has been cloudy and my memory poor (relatively speaking) ever since late-term pregnancy with my son 10 years ago. Some day I’ll get that checked out. I hope I wasn’t befuddled by the faeries for telling on them, but I do actually believe something more mundane is causing the brain-fog. Will be getting it checked out when we get our tax return done, I really miss my old brain…not that it’s horrid now, just foggy compared to pre-pregnancy states.

      That doesn’t change the magic though. I believe in things science cannot (yet?) study, even before I saw the snow faeries, but seeing them surprised me since I wasn’t trying to. I hope you see them too if you’ve a mind to try (or the local weather to).

  3. Eirien says:

    This was a cute poem, and nice to read the story behind it! I would say don’t feel upset if you don’t see them with your eyes, they are still there. Your heart knows it.

    My answer to your question: every day, all my life. I don’t believe in a 7 year rule of silence. Most fae dimensions are timeless. I do however believe details of an encounter are better shared with like-minds/focus.

    The act of explaining (apologizing!) to people who choose not to see [there is no “I can’t” in a fae realm] actually puts your focus lower in energy, which is what makes it difficult to see or show them to others.

    Take care, Saronai!

    • Saronai says:

      I commonly sense such experiences, long before I saw the snow faeries. You are very right in that, I may not see them next time, but I’ve always sensed with my heart.

      I think the other reason I’ve waited so long to watch the dance again is very mundane. I hate being cold! When snow comes out to play, most of the time, Saronai burrows inside where it’s warm…to stay. Still, I miss the evidence with my eyes. I think this winter, no excuses, I might try and see them in daylight this time.

      For the record, as I told AG, I don’t actually think they befuddled me for telling on them early. The thought amused me to say, particularly when picturing myself telling a doctor why I might still have brain-fog 10 years after giving birth. I said that part for the funnies 😀

      I never want to apologize (explain!) for seeing this (though I try to explain how in case someone else wants to try). I feel entirely too lucky to even consider apologizing for this experience. I successfully saw these nature spirits once, I know I did. No drugs, no fever, no alcohol involved. It’s personally verified, like my writing would be once published and making some money. Not that I’m concerned with the money, but for those who think I should get a “real” job, that’s the “verification” that it’s not just a pipe dream. In either case I don’t need their verification, but the money part of writing isn’t as real as the faeries I saw yet. Don’t believe in faeries? Well I’ve seen them, it’s money enough to escape financially stressful survival/”just getting by” mode that I doubt!

      In the end, such experiences thrill me and ignite my imagination, wake up my spirit far too much to ever even think of explainogizing. And reminding me of our talk after my “So Much More Than Sitting” post ( https://musesings.wordpress.com/2011/06/20/so-much-more-than-sitting/ ), has made me that much more determined not to apologize for my lack of money to show for my writing. I have readers! That’s what I really want, after all. Thanks for connecting the two, Eirien 😀

      You’re definitely right about choosing who to tell as well. They could never make me sorry, but I don’t share this story willy-nilly, mostly because there’s little point with some people. I dislike being “humored,” or worse, patronized, for my eccentricities and unboxed view of life. If anything, I know some just won’t be interested or care. Wasted breath and all that. Here, at Muse Sings, I don’t believe the “telling” wasted, particularly not after the lovely comments. This is where I embrace my eccentricities!

      Thanks for the comment!

      • Eirien says:

        Hello! I hear you on wanting to burrow inside during the winter. For the last few years, I couldn’t tolerate the cold at all. And I live in Canada. Brr! 😉

        If you as an artist want to make money for what you do, I’m completely fine with it. It’s totally your right, no need to verify of course! I will say [as I would to anyone else] to never forget your ‘roots’. That is, no matter the earnings, stay humble and in awe of life.

        Cheers^^

      • Saronai says:

        I already asked my husband to give me a good verbal smack upside the head if I ever start making it more about the money than the love of words and true appreciation for the readers. It was in connection to someone I recently stumbled into that felt themselves securely superior to their readers. You could practically hear the scathing, near-contempt he held for his (potential?) audience. Very much of the attitude that he had the brains and talent to captivate them and they had the simple minds to be captivated, when they weren’t off drooling on themselves while watching an explosion-athon movie.

        I am going to try to make money off my novels, yes. Ideally what I want is to write, to be well-read and it would be very nice if I could make enough at it that, with my husband’s paycheck, I can devote my “career” solely to writing. If I become as big as JK Rowling or make just enough to keep at it full time, I promise you won’t see me forgetting my roots or treating others, artist and audience alike, as inferiors. I most definitely won’t lose my awe of life and inspiring people, it’s essential to my writing spirit.

        No matter my degree of success, I plan to remain humble and down-to-earth. I already appreciate so many varied artists in every stage, traditional, or indie, trying to make a bit of money, or rejecting financial gain, it doesn’t matter. I can’t picture myself being any other way in that regard, and I find I don’t want to either.

        If I lose the awe, I’m left with some, which is less than awesome.

  4. kasturika says:

    This post inspired me to write about an experience of mine… once I began writing, it turned out to be something entirely different…

    I was very fond of my grandmother. She too loved me a lot (don’t all grandmothers!)
    I quite literally saw her die in front of my eyes… and as a 12 year old, I was disturbed, to say the least. I couldn’t eat anything, and I couldn’t sleep alone, definitely not in the same room, which I had shared with her for so many years.

    I tried sleeping in my mother’s room, but still couldn’t sleep. My mother tried her very best. At length I did fall asleep. The next morning my mother told me what she saw… A faint white hand that entered and stroked my head, as if trying to calm me…

    This post reminded me of that day, and of my grandmother…

    Lovely poem

    • Saronai says:

      That made me teary-eyed. I already read your post about your grandmother and felt pleasantly surprised to know I’d inspired it. This comment increases the beauty of the story you shared.

      It may not be about fairies, but I would categorize what your mother saw as an experience with “the fantastic unseen” anyway. Not everyone believes in spiritual presences and in a sense, I think fairies might be a type of spiritual presence, perhaps ones that our human sight limitations cannot pick up (similar to the fact that people and animals who see in black and white, cannot see a real rainbow)

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