As the sun sank beneath the land, Samhain began...
a door to the Otherworld opened...
from the mound the Good People emerged to travel across the island.
The Fairy Mound © Jane Brideson
Offerings of cheese and milk were left outside.
The fire was banked.
Bairín brac and a drop of the hard stuff were placed on the table before I made my way to bed.
Sleep stole upon me as I heard the door latch lift and the chair before the fire creak.
The Old Ones had come home.
They never left
ReplyDeleteNo they haven't Paul, but they make themselves known more at this time here :)
ReplyDeleteYour painting is beautiful, Jane. The old ones must give you such inspiration too!
ReplyDeleteYes, it is the strange noises which cannot be accounted for like the slithering, the loud bangs on the roof, the rattle of the latches and
ReplyDeletethe sounds of cooking pots falling.
All of which proves that life goes on unseen but not unheard.
Absolutely Heron!
ReplyDeleteThanks Val - yes I'm very lucky to live where I do.x
ReplyDeleteThis is a lovely painting. The figure in the sky reminds me of Áine. Is this painting of a particular mound? If so, which one?
ReplyDelete