` At the Garden Gate `

` At the Garden Gate `
As I ponder the moments that began this year, I look out the window and into the snow covered garden. Through my garden gate I see the glimpse of lights peering into the garden.  Waiting and wondering when they can come in… they want to dance and ‘kiss’ the blades of grass, and spread their magick.   Its not time I hear the gentle whisper in my ear.  The sun begins to beam lightly into the garden, and the faeries dance and glisten off the pure white snow, untouched, peaceful, patient, ever so patient as the garden nymps wait to touch down. The signs are not there yet they tell me. Preparations are being made.  What preparations are to be done I ask.  “Well… there are the colours to be prepared.  The greens, the browns and all the yellows, oranges, purples and blues… oh yes, lets not forget the reds.”  It takes delicate timing for each colour, and each petal to be prepared.”  Tell me about the flowers, I ask. “Well, she confides, the roses are my favourites, so delicate, so beautiful, each drop of rain falls just so on each petal, nourishing life to show the simplistic beauty of her true beauty.  The texture, so precise in its softness, a balance of beauty, and pain.  For to be pricked by her thorns is to know that she protects her beauty, showing her strength.” Each plant, each flower, she tells me, has to be in perfect harmony and balance with the delicate beauty of nature.  Not to strong, not to delicate and never to appear fragile.  Suddenly, I hear the faint beauty of harps and there is a silence between us, I know it is time for her to go. And in a flash, she was gone… and the snow began to fall’
~ thank you to the fae people for sharing their knowledge and wisdom with me, so I can share with you.. thank you Faelene~

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