There are windows at the back of my house which lead in and out of fairyland. On their sills sit all manner of magical things, which come and go between the worlds at will. Things appear and disappear from these liminal spaces in the flutter of an eye. And if you hold one of the holed stones to your eye it’s said you can see the otherworld, the land of fairies and magic, through its stone lined circle.
I don’t know if this is true, but I do know that the light plays strange tricks on the eye and mind in these in between spaces. The air can darken and fill with glittering light in a heartbeat, and in the shadows new shapes emerge.
The light shifts again and the deep blue globe of ocean blue is filled with swirling forms, held in the weathered prongs of a silver fork. Neptune’s trident spears another prize beneath the glamorous petals of the fairies flowers, Campanula and Rose. Wreathes of petals decorate the portal, as the worlds shift their alignment.
In the second flutter of the eye all is restored, and the enchanted light recedes across the window sill. Everything resumes its place, almost where it was, before to the untrained eye. But look closely and you might see the edges of the otherworld creeping through the gaps and spaces.