Imagine if Fairies existed.
What would they be? What would they do? Where would they live?
To E.K. at 3.5, there’s no telling what a fairy is to her. My imagination runs wild for her. And then I remember she’ll never remember. She’s only three.
We went to the Arboretum to the Arts Festival. Not sure what the official name was, but it didn’t really matter when we walked our way down to the end of aisle 1.
The Fairy Corner. Maybe I’m making up that name. But the two people there watched Emerson at a distance. Clearly they loved the idea. Fairies in little garden houses. They made these beautiful garden stands that were made for fairies to house.
E.K. picked the purple house and we’ve planted it in our entry way pot, along with the dying humingbird-attracting tree. A small hole in the side of the house welcomes a little feather or leaf.
The inside of the house has a bell that has the slightest ding to it when the wind blows. The feather from my pillow offers the entrance for the imaginary fairy.
Each morning Emerson checks the tiny house to see if a fairy is inside.