My aunt and uncle were on holiday on Arran in the late 60s or early 70s, with their two young sons, aged 7 and 10 ish. Primary school age. At Lochranza they decided to take the walk to the Fairy Rings to the north of the village. It's a wild, hilly and unpopulated part. Their youngest son got separated from them some distance from the car park, on the shore, where they had left their car. He was missing for hours and in desperation they decided to stop their frantic searching and head back asap to their car to alert the police and start a bigger search party. When they got back to the car park, their wee boy was waiting for them at their car. Well, the parents were absolutely furious and relieved and overjoyed in equal measures and demanded to know where he had been. He said he ended up in a wee glen with steep sides all around and very stony, He became really frightened and sat down on a rock hoping to be found soon by Mum and Dad. After a long time a wee man appearred, not much taller than himself, dressed all in dark greenich clothes and with shoes with huge big brass buckles on them. He spoke kindly to him and said he would need to take him back to his family as he was too young to be on his own. So my wee cousin took his hand and went with him back down glens to the carpark. As soon as he arrived at the shore and the wee man told him to look over there where my cousin saw his family car parked. He grinned as he knew he was safe now and he turned back to thank the wee smiling man with the huge buckles on his shoes who had been standing on the path with him that second, and there was nobody there. Nor anywhere near him on the shoreside but the cry of seagulls and oystercatchers. He related all of this to his parents, when they finally returned to their car too, some time later. My uncle was furious at this tale and told him to stop lying or else he would be punished. But my aunt tells me he would not change his story of what happened that day near the Fairy circles, especially the big brass or gold coloured shoe buckles and piercing merry dark eyes. My wee cousin now lives in Islington, London (Jeremy Corbyn lives round the corner from him) and he is approaching retirement age but his whole life he has never altered his story to his whole family and always insists he was rescued by one of the 'wee fowk'
Wow, I was riveted by your wee cousin's story! How mysterious. The benign fairy figure with his green garb reminds me of the Gairloch (I think?) ghillie dhu who helped a lost lassie find her way home. For what it's worth, I believe your cousin :)
Thank you Kate for posting about your trip to Skye. My thought is that the Fairies blessed you with the beautiful day as a way of thanks and as a magical birthday gift. Can't wait to read the enchanted stories the muses inspire you to write. Thought I'd be finished with Otta's book by now but was sidetracked by another that I'm reading for a bookclub. Picked the Skye book up just yesterday and was reading about
My aunt and uncle were on holiday on Arran in the late 60s or early 70s, with their two young sons, aged 7 and 10 ish. Primary school age. At Lochranza they decided to take the walk to the Fairy Rings to the north of the village. It's a wild, hilly and unpopulated part. Their youngest son got separated from them some distance from the car park, on the shore, where they had left their car. He was missing for hours and in desperation they decided to stop their frantic searching and head back asap to their car to alert the police and start a bigger search party. When they got back to the car park, their wee boy was waiting for them at their car. Well, the parents were absolutely furious and relieved and overjoyed in equal measures and demanded to know where he had been. He said he ended up in a wee glen with steep sides all around and very stony, He became really frightened and sat down on a rock hoping to be found soon by Mum and Dad. After a long time a wee man appearred, not much taller than himself, dressed all in dark greenich clothes and with shoes with huge big brass buckles on them. He spoke kindly to him and said he would need to take him back to his family as he was too young to be on his own. So my wee cousin took his hand and went with him back down glens to the carpark. As soon as he arrived at the shore and the wee man told him to look over there where my cousin saw his family car parked. He grinned as he knew he was safe now and he turned back to thank the wee smiling man with the huge buckles on his shoes who had been standing on the path with him that second, and there was nobody there. Nor anywhere near him on the shoreside but the cry of seagulls and oystercatchers. He related all of this to his parents, when they finally returned to their car too, some time later. My uncle was furious at this tale and told him to stop lying or else he would be punished. But my aunt tells me he would not change his story of what happened that day near the Fairy circles, especially the big brass or gold coloured shoe buckles and piercing merry dark eyes. My wee cousin now lives in Islington, London (Jeremy Corbyn lives round the corner from him) and he is approaching retirement age but his whole life he has never altered his story to his whole family and always insists he was rescued by one of the 'wee fowk'
Wow, I was riveted by your wee cousin's story! How mysterious. The benign fairy figure with his green garb reminds me of the Gairloch (I think?) ghillie dhu who helped a lost lassie find her way home. For what it's worth, I believe your cousin :)
Thank you for sharing such a captivating story.
Appreciate the folklore and your wonderful images. This was so fun to read.
Ah, thank you so much! I had a lot of fun writing it. Felt nice step away from all the introspection and just write about an enjoyable trip.
(Sorry) Just hit the wrong button. Anyway, just reading about Sleat so very fun to read about your being there by the Loch.
Thank you! I'm glad you enjoyed this one Wayne - it's the most fun I've had writing a letter in ages :)
Thank you Kate for posting about your trip to Skye. My thought is that the Fairies blessed you with the beautiful day as a way of thanks and as a magical birthday gift. Can't wait to read the enchanted stories the muses inspire you to write. Thought I'd be finished with Otta's book by now but was sidetracked by another that I'm reading for a bookclub. Picked the Skye book up just yesterday and was reading about