Of Bells, Bread and the Good Folk

I do some thinking about Fae and their folklore, as part of my ongoing Second Life existence. Today, I found myself pondering bells, chimes, and mundane things in general in relation to the Good Folk. I used to have wind chimes up at my tree, and I've known other Fae who did as well, but the lore on them is contradictory, with one source saying they love bells, and others saying they are driven off by them. So here's my musing for the day on how this can be:



Bells are a matter of some confusion when it comes to the Fae. Some hold that bells draw the Fae, some that they repel them. It's clear that bells and chimes can drive them away, as church bells protect from fairy mischief and attack, but it's clearly not universal, for the Lady of the Fae has been documented to have bells on the tack and harness of her horse.

It's simple, really: bells don't repel the Fae. They repel Fae of hostile intent. If you ring a bell, or set a bell that rings, then it rings an aura around it that resonates with your intent and well-being, and any in harmony with that may enter it freely. Those who are not, are driven off. So bells may be used by the Fae themselves as protection from other Fae -- though it may be a problem for them, since impulse drives them so that a bell may suddenly drive away another Fae whose mischief rises, and it's unselective enough an effect that a Fae with a chime ringing may suddenly find friends or invited guests driven off simply because they considered some practical joke. For this reason, it's considered rude for any but the highest of the Fae to have bells ringing in any but the most serious of circumstances.

Bread is also something that folklore rocks both ways. On the one hand, baking bread or carrying bread in your pocket are said to protect you. On the other, bread may be left as an offering to the Fae, either in gift or supplication, and they clearly enjoy eating it, if somewhat less than they do cream, butter and honey. This is actually similar in a way to the bells, in that bread serves as a symbol for home and order, and so provides the human that holds it with a symbolic "hearth" where they are granted at least some of the protections of being on native ground. It weakens and dilutes antagonistic magics, and in the case of lesser Fae of ill intent can repulse them completely. But when left out, released from the possession of a human, bread is just bread, and therefore potentially yummy.

Rowan trees are likewise given the love/hate treatement in lore, being both holy to the Fae (who are said to be seen where grows the Rowan, as well as Oak, Ash and Thorn), and being a soverign protection to keep them from a house or a child's cradle. The answer to this is simple: it IS sacred to them, and so anyplace it may be found is guarded,  kept under the protection of which the Rowan is emblematic. No attack or offense can be made where the Rowan guards the entrance.

Until my mind wanders again... Be well.

UnFaire

Yeah, I know, that Creag, he's such a loser, he never calls, he never writes...

For the last week, I've been hanging out at the Fantasy Faire. I do it every year. Last year's Faire marked my turning Petite, first buying my avi and then winning the Faire auction for the custom male petite head -- which, I've been told, is still the only one ever sold in Second Life. While I'm not a full-time little one, I spend more time little than big these days (which I think is frustrating to certain folks who prefer me in the standard package to the fun-size Creag).

Size aside, though, except when the odd whim strikes me I'm about always a fae, so the Fantasy Faire is really my thing. I love it. I wander, I dance, I shop (at the RFL kiosks so I can tell myself I'm not just buying toys for myself), I chat with passersby, I meet new friends, I meet OLD friends, and I just immerse myself in the amazing builds. This year's may have been the best Fantasy Faire ever. I could just spend hours staring at the amazing builds (Magnificat and Titans' Hollow particularly blew me away this year), and something about it brings my imagination alive and soothes my spirit all at the same time.

So I'm PARTICULARLY unhappy that it's ending.

When I was only a wee sprat of a fae, there was a traveling carnival that used to come to our town every summer. They'd stay a week, and for a week I would be there every day, riding rides, playing games, watching people, eating junk food and having a wonderful time. Then at the end of the week, they'd pack up in the night and the day would dawn on a bare and beaten city park where all the fun had been. I'd feel hollow, like someone had let all the air out of my balloon, and that's how I feel when the Fantasy Faire is over. Come tomorrow, I'll be wandering again in my old haunts, with images of giant lanterns still ringing in my mind and the ghost of childhood cotton candy whispering across my tongue. I wish it could go on longer. I wish it could go on FOREVER. I'll just hold it in my heart, and dream, and wait for the day that the carnival comes back to town.