In the Shadow of Mt. Pisgah

We walked in twilight through a corridor of arching oaks hung with lichen and tall, majestic Douglas firs. All around us the forest and the skies are alive: the crows heading off to roost, the screeching owl emerging for her evening hunt, even the occasional fluttering bat. The moon rises as the stars are taking their places across the heavens. We turned the corner and looked out over the vast moonlit field: here is the new home of Faerieworlds.

In four weeks, this splendid park, surrounded by trees and forests, bordered by a river, shadowed by the tallest mountain in the region, will transform into the Realm and fill with music, amazing vendors, enchanting performers and thousands of faerie lovers from across our nation and the world, all arrayed in their beautiful faerie finery. Everything about the space feels right, good and welcoming: It is alive with life and magic is afoot. We close our eyes and hear the summoning songs of Faun and Woodland, we see wonderful arts and crafts, we see families laughing, dancing, gathered together in campsites, we see community joined together in joy and celebration. We open our eyes and the waxing gibbous goddess has risen; all is blue and silver. Do we hear Adam Hurst's plaintive cello floating on the night breeze? The verdant spirit of Place, of Faerie, is palpable here, everywhere, waiting and welcoming; you can feel it. Reluctantly we head back home and begin to count the days.

- Robert