by Kate Everson
Copyright 2011 Kate Everson
There was something about Ireland that thrilled Rebekah to the bone.
“There are fairies here,” she smiled.
This was her first trip to the emerald isle and Rebekah was tingling all over with anticipation. She had read about the country at home in Canada, but it was such a long flight and she wondered if she would ever get here. But now, it was real!
Or, at least as real as fairies could be.
“I wonder… ” she mused. “I just wonder if I will see them. Or hear them. Or if they will even show up for me at all.”
At home, Rebekah often wandered in the woods where fairies lived, hidden in tree faces or under umbrella plants and white mushrooms. She had felt them inside stones. Once when hugging her favourite big oak tree, she had heard them talking along the trail. Just distant voices, unable to be deciphered, but magical all the same.
“And now, I’m here where fairies reign!” she laughed.
Her first destination was Glendalough, a ruined monastery site on the east coast south of Dublin. She wandered among the headstones and ancient yews and sat inside the old chapel of the 6h century Saint Kevin. It felt enchanted.
The site had not been used for centuries, except by tourists, so there was a feeling of spaciousness and peace. Even the hills welcomed her. Rebekah loved the feel of it. She was sure there were legendary creatures here, hiding behind the thin tombstones or under the old yews.
She sat there and listened. Suddenly, she heard something that sounded like a child crying, far off in the hills. She jumped up and followed the sound.
Later she learned it was likely just the sound of a lamb crying for its mother, but Rebekah was unfamiliar with those cries, and they led her deeper and deeper into the forested hills. She felt the trees surround her, and almost lost the footpath. But she climbed higher and higher, until she could see far below a small round lake, glowing in the sunshine.
“If there are any mythical creatures, it would be here!” she smiled and sat down to listen with her heart. She closed her eyes and felt the breeze on her face. It played with a strand of hair, lifting it up into the air like a waving magic carpet.
And then she heard it. Very soft, and almost undetectable, but definitely a voice.
“Slickety abano luk luk,” it said. Then, “Op!” and it stopped. It must have sighted her, sitting there so quietly.
Rebekah dared not move a muscle. She did not want to frighten them away.
“Pazzak?” one asked. There was no answer.
Rebekah peered into the forest, beneath the ferns and bushes, trying to spot them. She knew they might be very small. And they also might be invisible.
Suddenly, she remembered an ancient call she had learned from spending a night inside a stone circle in Wales. She thought it might just work.
“Rabakannaaaa…. ” she whispered softly, her voice trailing off into lightness.
There was no response. Silence. She did not hear a thing. But not disheartened Rebekah tried again, this time facing east towards the sunrise.
“Rabakanaaaaa… ohsee… ma,” she said soothingly, inviting the fairies to show themselves.
She closed her eyes for a second then opened them quick. There they were! Standing on a big broad leaf, staring at her. One was wearing a little tam on his head made out of a flower petal. He stood sideways, leaning on a walking stick, giving her the once over. He seemed to be checking her out. She hoped she met with his approval! Rebekah sat very, very still and breathed ever so softly. She did not say a word.
Finally, the little man turned to his partner, a lady of the purest white lilies, and whispered to her. Rebekah could not make out what he said. The lady looked startled and shook her head. Then she put her nose up in the air and prepared to jump down from the leaf. The man stopped her. He started waving his stick at her, making spiral patterns in the air. She seemed to calm down, and sat back on the leaf, folding her lily gown beneath her.
Rebekah wondered what that was all about. But she smiled as sweetly as she could and just sat quietly, her eyes half closed to see the magical beings right in front of her. This was worth every minute of that long flight to Ireland!
Gradually, she held out her hand, inviting the couple to come to her. They looked startled and began another round of heated discussions, with the lady grabbing the man’s stick and preparing to beat him on the head with it. Rebekah almost laughed, but she contained herself. She didn’t want to disturb the moment.
Again, the man seemed to win out, despite the lady’s objections. He hopped onto Rebekah’s outstretched hand, and waved to his partner to follow. She flew over on her tiny rainbow wings and landed ever so lightly on Rebekah’s baby finger. Perched just on the edge of a fingernail, the lady was prepared to leave if the party got rough.
Again, Rebekah had to tell herself to keep calm. She knew that any sudden movement or sound could be the end of it all. She just smiled and smiled and smiled. The fairies began to relax and started talking to each other, almost ignoring her. They seemed to like the softness of Rebekah’s hand, and the man even stretched out, laying his cane to one side. The lady gradually inched closer and closer to him, until she finally gave in and let her wings down too.
They seemed perfectly at home on Rebekah’s hand and who knows how long this would have lasted if she hadn’t sneezed.
“Ah … Choo!”
And they were gone. Vanished. Nothing left. Not even a smudge on her hand.
Rebekah sighed and wandered back down the hill. This had been a wonderful start to her visit!
She wandered through the ruins of the old monastery and watched the sheep grazing on the tufts of grass sticking out of the old stones. Rebekah was amazed at the history of these places, so many hundreds of years old. She imagined what it was like to live in this time, when the Celtic saints were making their way across the land.
“I know I was here before,” she smiled to herself. “I feel so at home here!”
Rebekah had been born in Canada, but she felt her soul was much older than that. Ever since she could remember, she had felt a kinship with nature, and every time she saw a picture of the Celtic lands, she felt a stirring inside.
“A long, long time ago… ” she mused. “Maybe I was a Celtic saint!”
There were enough of them in Ireland to have formed several monasteries or places of worship to their new God, taking the place of the Celtic gods. Rebekah liked all the gods, of any religion or belief. At home, she knew the natives had once worshipped the nature gods too, and that was all right with her.
“Pefect,” she smiled. “As long as we love God in our own way, it all works.”
She had also visited native American sites in Arizona and Colorado where the Anasazi and the Hopi lived and worshipped their gods on the sides of cliffs. Those also held a special place in Rebekah’s heart. As long as it was sincere, she knew it was good.
But here in Ireland was something even more fascinating. It had all the elements of the ancient past lingering in the rocks, the trees, and the land itself. When even fairies come out of the woods and light on your hand, what could be more amazing?
Her next stop was Wexford, further south along the coastline, to the Irish National Heritage Park. Here she would get a good idea of the roots of this ancient country, from the coming of man to the island to the arrival of the Normans in the 12th century. It showed reenactments of Celtic and Viking life, and had stone age, bronze age, Celtic and Norman age sites.
The most remarkable to Rebekah was the monastery of the Benedictines. She walked inside the stone chapel and suddenly the room was filled with monks chanting. It almost made her jump right out of her skin! It was so marvellous! She found out later there was a recording that was activated whenever anyone crossed the threshold. No magic here!
Outside was a reconstruction of an original Celtic cross with the colourful pigment kept in the stone. There were saints and characters and Celtic knots carved into the design with such brilliance that Rebekah was delighted!
It was perfect! The stone cross held all the energy of those ancient days, and she felt she could crawl back inside that chapel and listen forever to the sound of chanting.
But she still had many places to visit in this wondrous land.
Rebekah hoped she would meet up with some fairies again, and it wasn’t long before she had another experience. This time it was on the west coast of Ireland, in the area called Connemara, north of Galway. She drove along the coastal road and absorbed the beauty of the rolling hills and spaciousness of the land. Everything was so green and alive, and there were even bright pink fuchsias growing wild everywhere.
Rebekah drove along the Old Bog Road, just a thin one-track between towns, with a few sheep and goats along the way. She stopped to take a picture of goat, and that’s when the fairies showed up.
The goat didn’t seem to mind her, just scratched his foot with is big horns. But he must have been in fairy territory because as soon as she went to start her car, it wouldn’t budge. The motor did not even turn over. Nothing.
Rebekah was bewildered. The rental car was new and she had never had any problems with it before. And now, all of a sudden, out here in the middle of nowhere with no one in sight… it was a bit scary!
She had heard that sometimes the fairies can be mischievous, stealing jewellery or moving things to different places. She wondered if that was going on here. She climbed up on the rocks and sat down, looking at the stretch of bog on all sides. What had she done to displease the fairies? Maybe they just didn’t like strangers in their turf. Or maybe it was just a trick.
She tried the car again. Nothing.
There were no cars anywhere along the Old Bog Road. Nobody to call for help. She had no phone. She was at their mercy.
Then suddenly, Rebekah remembered. There is only one way to defeat the fairies at their own game. She sat down and closed her eyes. “I surrender,” she said simply. “You win. Whatever you want me to do, I will do it. I surrender.”
She went back to the car and it started right away! Bingo! She laughed all the way down the road.
In her travels through Connemara Rebekah stopped in at an old chapel beside a stream that ran under a beautiful arched stone bridge. She opened the oak door of the church and stepped inside. There were fonts and altars made from local marble and a beautiful stained glass of Saint Winefride. Rebekah went outside and walked around the Celtic crosses where the sheep grazed on the hillside. She marvelled at such a sweet place. It felt like a piece of heaven.
The next experience Rebekah had with the fairies was in a most unexpected place. The gorgeous Kylemore Abbey, retreat of the Irish Benedictine nuns from Ypres after World War I, was a favourite spot for tourists to enjoy tours of the abbey, the church and the gardens. Located on a small lake, it was picturesque and perfect.
Who would have expected fairies here?
Rebekah wandered off the paved drive to find a secluded place to rest and reflect by the water’s edge. The bushes were thick and their limbs climbed all over each other, making a perfect sanctuary from the world.
She felt them before she saw or heard them. A little tingling in her cheeks. A sudden feeling of a presence. Someone, or something, was with her.
Then she saw them. A dozen tiny little beings, sitting on the edge of a limb right in front of her. They were arguing, as usual. One kept jumping up and down and the others laughed at him. A spunky little fairy with bright purple wings pushed him over the edge and he fell, until he caught himself and flew back.
They saw her but didn’t seem to care. They just ignored her! Very strange, thought Rebekah. As if they are used to people. And then she realized they probably were. This place of refuge had a lot of nuns who sought quiet places for prayer and reflection all the time. The fairies and the nuns co-existed in this special place in Ireland.
Rebekah loved the tolerance of both species, fey and human, and wondered why the rest of the world couldn’t be more like that. Just live and let live. We don’t all have to be the same or believe in the same things. Live, love and leave people in peace.
Just off the coast of Connemara near Cleggan, Rebekah got a ride on a small ferry (she wished it were a real fairy) to the tiny island of Inishbofin. It felt amazing just to wander around this ancient place and feel the sand beneath her toes and the sky dancing above her.
She rented a bicycle at the dock and biked around and went swimming in the cool sea. It was all so peaceful. The island also contained the ruins of St. Colman’s abbey and Rebekah knew she would come back for a longer visit some day.
On her last day in Ireland, she found another adventure in Aughnanure Castle which was surrounded by Celtic crosses. She wandered through the stone ruins and loved the feel of the place, but kept being pulled back to the yard where all the crosses stood like sentinels. They had such a powerful magnetism that Rebekah had to stand among them like one of those forgotten souls, their markers still watching over the place they loved.
She felt moved by their very presence. Whatever was in them was not dead. It was as alive as she was.
Before she could board her flight home at Shannon airport, she found out there was a six hour delay. Rebekah did not know what to do. Leave it up to the gods! She discovered the fabulous Bunratty Castle and Irish Folk Park nearby that made her trip to Ireland even more memorable.
“I love the land of fairies and Celts and magical places,” Rebekah smiled. And on her flight back to Canada, she imagined that fairies were guiding her plane safely home.
Indeed they were.
* * The End * *