Kristal Lee

"Dirt devils," my Grandmother used to say. Whenever we'd see a little dust kick up from the ground and swirl around like miniature tornadoes. Though they lacked the destructive force of storm tornadoes, she'd warn, "Be mindful. Faeries are afoot. You don't want them catching you."

What Granny called "dirt devils" are known in Irish folklore as sidhe gaoithe, faery winds. A sudden gust of wind or a whirlwind thought to be caused by the Faery Host rushing past.

W.B. Yeats remarked that Irish peasantry were careful not to offend the traveling faeries and at the sight of a faery wind they would remove their hats, saying "God bless them."

An Irish legend tells of an unfortunate man who built his house in the middle of a faery path despite the townsfolk warning. It wasn't long before a sidhe gaoithe whipped up, destroying the man's new home.

Modern Science pooh-pooh's superstitions and would have us believe that this phenomenon isn't supernatural.

"Dust devils form when hot air near the surface rises quickly through a small pocket of cooler, low- pressure air above it. If conditions are just right, the air may begin to rotate. The spinning effect, along with surface friction usually will produce a forward momentum. The dust devil is able to sustain itself longer by moving over nearby sources of hot surface air."  Wikipedia

Photo: www.reneecarol.com

 Most of the dirt devils that I've encountered were about ankle-to-knee high. An unnatural stillness would fall. Not a wisp of wind stirred. I didn't dare breathe the thickened air. The faint buzzing of voices and galloping hooves tickled my mind, if not my ears. The presence of one, or many, brushing past. There and gone in a blink of the eye. Too quick for them to hear the jack-hammering of my heart as I stood frozen waiting for them to pass. Who knows what would've happened if they'd noticed me noticing them.

Have you experienced a faery wind, or other faery encounter?

On this Faery Friday, I hope you enjoy "The King of the Fairies" by Amadeus as much as I did.

According to folklore, a faery ring is an arc or circle of mushrooms that appear during the night and are thought to be gateways into the faery realm. These areas were believed to be places where faeries met to get down and boogie.

So, not only does my backyard have the Best Grubs in the Neighborhood, apparently it's a favorite night spot for faeries who want to kick up their heels for a little ditty.

All I want to know is why I wasn't invited to the party. By the number of faery rings decorating the yard, it was a doozie of a wing-ding.


~Kristal Lee

A blood red moon, partially obscured by passing clouds, cast an eerie orange glow over my house. The forest, strangely still, seemed more mystical than suburban woods should be. A soft, gentle wind nipped my skin just enough to elicit a few chill bumps despite the warm, Florida evening.

I stopped to wonder.

Were faeries afoot? Was tonight the night to behold a Faery Raed, a Wild Hunt? Would the sounds of galloping horses and barking hounds reach my piqued and straining ears?

With baited breath I stood, watching, waiting for a sign of things to come. Yet, as the clouds passed over and beyond the wide-eyed moon, all was quiet and serene. No portent of calamity, no foreshadow of doom. I heaved a sigh of relief. And yet, a twinge of disappointment lingered.

Just once, I’d like to glimpse the Great Faery Host thundering through the black velvet sky. Fierce and glorious in pursuit of their prey. But, I wouldn’t want to get in their way. They have a fondness for whisking humans away.

~Kristal Lee