Hear the wind
Dream of the waves
Smell the earth
Breathe in the flames

Australia is a country of diverse land scapes, unforgivable seasons and ancient people. Travellers worldwide spend endless days discovering the hidden sea bays, or the never-ending desert plains, all pocketed of wild vegetation. The isolation of Australia has cultivated a unique blend of animals and plants that have become masters of survival on the harsh landscape. The stories that are not often talked about are the voices of the land, the faeries of Australia who sing out in a deep ancient hum. Their song is intertwined with the faeries that have travelled the distant shores with the new settlers who brought their own folklore and heritage with them. The diverse culture of Australia creates a rich braid of faeries that echo their story for those that still remember to listen.

The Australian Aboriginal culture is estimated as 65,000 years old, making it the oldest continuous culture of any group of people on earth. They were strict on their youth to apply the traditions of their tribe that had survived thousands of years before them. Boys and girls were initiated into a tribe at a young age through a vigorous process that tested their survival skills along with their will power and courage. In preparation for a high moral principle, children were told stories by the elders that passed down the history of their people, the story of the landscape and how they came into creation. The unchanged traditions of the Aboriginal tribes preserved the culture and the history of the land through folklore.

Aboriginal storytelling speaks of the ‘Dreamtime,’ where they talk of great beings and astounding events, even extra terrestrial contact. Like most folklore, it contains an essence of truth where the legend creates the seed of a culture and lands history. They recall their own migration to Australia from the north east, geological changes such as the rising sea and the change of lush vegetation to desert. The Aboriginal philosophy talks of a seed power deposited here on earth. Every meaningful activity, event, or life process that occurs at a particular place leaves behind a vibrational residue in the earth. This is evident in the cycle of life with plants leaving their seeds for new growth, the current land formations are an effect of the events that happened earlier with mountains, rocks, volcanoes, riverbeds and waterholes. Everything in the natural world is a footprint of the spirit beings whose actions created our world.

The voices of this ancient land are deep, speaking in a tongue that has almost been forgotten. To hear them you must give in to the frustration that comes when faced with such adverse wilderness and listen deeper into the surroundings. The rock people will talk of a time where their mountains towered high, now they are slummed low with age. The water spirits will talk of a time where they flowed strong, now they dwindle and run deep into the earth during most of the year to escape the scorning heat. The fire spirits dance in the desert by day and sleep in the warm rocks by night. Fire is essential for the Australian bush land so that new seeds will sprout, old leaves will burn and trees will shoot green sprigs once again. The air elementals carry pollen across bush lands, a cooling breeze for the west coast, chaos in the north or swarms of flies from the central plains. It is a playground for the elementals as the harsh wilderness has played its part in protecting itself from the hands of human development. The heat and dry land makes most of the nation unliveable for non-nomadic human folk, leaving nature to continue as it always has unnoticed by the rest of the bustling world.

However Australia was discovered, first by the Dutch and then the French, both considered Australia as not suitable for a new settlement. It was the English Captain James Cook who began the tiresome stages of building a New England in 1770. In less than 240 years there are now many proud Australian’s who call Australia home, though their family heritage seeps from all over the world. With so much land mass and natural resources it was an ideal dumping ground for convicts and lower class citizens in search of a new start. First it was fleets of English and Irish settlers making the deathly crossing to Australia. The native Australian elementals battled the settlers at first, making it almost impossible for them to farm and sustain a colony. It was only through the supplies of England and trading with local Aboriginal tribes that they survived.

Slowly the settlers made farms as they began to understand the seasons and unforgiveable landscape. The kaleidoscope of European settlers carried the faerie folklore from their home countries. In the bitter race for survival the colonies would find comfort in sharing stories from home, their family folklore and faerie tales. The faeries heard the call of their human ties and made a connection to the new land. The Banshee who is known for her connection to royal Irish families was heard wailing in the night, giving news that someone has passed away back home. There is a story that one Irish convict sent to Australia was punished for burning his wife as he thought she had been taken by the faeries and a changeling left behind.

The faerie connection is present in the current Australian communities. Faeries are timeless and exist without borders, their magic flows from one generation to the next through the stories that dwindle from all over the world, and from the land Australian’s call home. Children are encouraged year after year to look out for faeries in the garden. The gum nut faeries were introduced to the rest of the world through cute pictures and ornaments. Australians young and old are nation proud, striving to sustain the unique wilderness and maintain a country that echo’s many voices from within its depths.

There on the shore a Mermaid lay,
On the years very first winter day.
Shivering and cold, she prayed for her sun that would keep her hair gold.
She looked to the sky, only wishing she could fly,
When there close by a beautiful faery flew.
Faery, being wise, she instantly knew,
to take the siren from the ocean
and help to set her life back in motion.

Mermaid, now admitting defeat
and knowing the reason for their meet, gave up her fight.
With all her faery might, she was carried to a land she had thought out of sight.

Faeries arms wrapped around Mermaid as she re-lit the fire,
and with a whisper, again there was desire.
Faeries flames fell around Mermaid as she kissed her goodnight.
The fire burning bright, Faery looked deep into ocean blue eyes,
She told of a world with no more lies,
Where only love and truth flies.

Hand in Hand they explored the Faeries beloved land,
and sometimes even wondered back to Mermaids waters to wander along the sand.
Faery taught her of trees and flowers and all their magikal powers.
The mermaid whispered of tales from her shore.
Of times of doubt, more often times of hope forever more.

Faery walked bare to all,
But Mermaid was not as brave
and still scared she may fall.
So back to shore alone she would go,
Often when the waters were low,
To run along the shore and glide,
Knowing again she would sway with the tide.

Faery more wise than before,
Knew she would allure Mermaid forever more,
So in the dead of night, the moon of course Full and bright,
Faery said 'Now we must be' and set me off to tame the unruly sea.

... their time of magick has now passed
a love once thought indestructable has shifted at last.
Scales lost and wings now torn
The Mermaid and the Faerie will sway no more.
A bond now broken,
sadness now spoken.
This is the story grandchildren will tell.
Of a love, once forbidden, shed into tears upon the oceans spell.

If you seek to love, then remember only this;
that the mermaid and the faerie held true loves bliss
Sadness can behold, even the magickal so it seems
but love will open worlds, once thought true only in dreams.

To my wild love... this is for you.

She is waiting. She is still. She is far from silent.

The woods resonate with an eerie hum that can barely be heard above the pounding of your beckoning heart. You want to see and understand this place but there is a stillness within you that is awake and aware with unknown fear and curiosity. There are louder noises in the distance from all directions which guide your imagination to what may be hiding within the depths of this old forgotten magic within the forest depths. Walk on dear friend.

She is waiting. She is still. She is far from silent.

The steps forward into this ancient woods are unfamiliar and yet guided by a knowing, rather a calling to something you recognise as your own path of discovery. The trees stand over as watchtowers and reach out their heavy hues in nurtured beauty as an offering of encouragement. As each step passes under your searching feet there unfolds more unspeakable beauty. They are old. The trees tell their own story and as you cross the path of each one you can feel their strength. They welcome your presence with ancient wisdom and an embrace of earth energy. They stand as a community but looking at them you understand that they’ve found their wisdom from a deep solitude found over a silent time.

She is waiting. She is still. She is far from silent.

At last you find it. She is so close. You can feel her breathing. You feel yourself being guided in another direction. It has been a long time since you’ve recognised which way you first entered the woods, but you recognise instead the path to follow forward. You feel guided to follow on beneath the low branches, hanging vines and maze of small trees. This feels like a gateway. Stumbling out of the entanglement your knees are damp from the forest floor and the air that is now filling your lungs is dense and rich in the scent of the old woods. You open your eyes to her wonder.

She is waiting. She is still. She is far from silent. There stands a grandmother tree; grand and wise, old and truly alive. No others stand near her for her heavy widespread branches have prevented it so. ‘Sit with me for your tired and weary.’ She is calling and the quiver in your legs responds obediently for there is now no other place to go but within yourself to understand.

You sit on the forest floor and absorb the cooling earth. The decaying leaves and moss creates a soft cushioning for your tired body and the grandmother tree awaits your mind to find its stillness. She knows your journey, she recognises your fear and she smiles upon your wonder. The long years of wisdom flowing patiently within her fibres have waiting for this moment of recognition. Only seekers will find her, only the aware will recognise her and only the heart can truly accept her.

The forest now seems silent without your footsteps. Your heart has calmed to a hypnotic rhythm which seems to echo in the stillness. The birds are silent. You close your eyes and listen to the very breathe of the forest against you and as you drift into your heart there comes what you’ve searched for all these years- The Great Song. It is a whisper of the earth which is sung in a continual ethereal tune, it has always been sung but few have remembered to hear it. Instinctively you open your eyes to search for the singer, and the source of the gentle notes that are drifting into your yearning ears.

The lone tree seems to be mocking you, for there is no one to be seen that can claim the ethereal notes. You gather your fear together and swallow it down in a gulp of courage. Breathing ever so gently to calm the pounding of your heart, you see her at last; a shimmer of movement, colour and radiant energy at the corner of your eye. Breathe just breathe. You won’t give into your fear. She gently moves closer towards you; steady but vibrant, radiating yet almost motionless. Just breathe.

You’re external motionlessness doesn’t convey what is happening within your body as your very cells are dancing with excitement, fear and captivated wonder. The Faerie Queen stands before you now in all her magic, mystery and might. She stands strong and tall, taller than you and anything you had once only imagined. Her crimson hair is tangled in twists and unruly curls down past her curved hips. Her eyes, large and slightly slanted, pierce into yours with an everlasting green that seems to read your soul like an open book. At first glance she looked to be a young maiden at the peak of her youth, full of energy and vibrant life, but when you look into her eyes you see her ancient knowledge formed from great sadness and great joy through lifetimes of observation.

Her fair skin is wrapped in strong textured cloth that covers her ever so discreetly and sensually reveals most of her slender feminine stature. Her very skin is glowing with an array of colourful dancing light which echoes past her physical self into the shape of glistening wings. It is her you could smell as you past the hidden gateway into her realm, the rich fragrance of earth, trees, moss and blossoming flowers. Her head is tilted ever so slightly and her thin lips are curled at the sides, motionless in a small but definite smile.

Slung out of her way she carries a bow which in a single second can be brought into action to defend her people. She is the keeper of this forest and all who dwell here. She is also the guardian of certain faerie souls who have lost their way. She knew you were coming long before you had consciously decided to walk within her forest depths. She had been calling you in your dreams and guiding you into a state of awakening and awareness for some time now.

It is her you could sense in your room when everybody was sleeping but something very real was still stirring in the shadows. It was her you could hear as she still tried to capture your attention in the depths of darkness when no other noise could be explained. It was also her voice you heard inside your own mind that guided you away from harm and destruction and into a place of joy and longing for vibrant life. It was her that shimmered in the corner of your eye which you denied in fear and turned away in self construed disbelief. It was also her who sang to you sweetly and stroked your hair when you were a child and no one else thought she was there.

She stands before you now. Her hand is outstretched revealing long slender fingers and a small delicate seed nestled within her gentle palm. This is her offering to you now. This seed could be the beginning of a grand oak and even the beginning of a new forest; but it also represents your growth, internal and beyond. She will help you to plant it and nurture it to grow but it is you who must make the decision and effort to guide it so.

Once there lived a village of creatures along the bottom of a great river. The current of the river swept silently over them all- young and old, rich and poor, good and evil, the current going its own way, knowing only its own crystal self.

Each creature in its own manner clung tightly to the twigs and rocks of the river bottom, for clinging was their way of life, and resisting the current what each had learnt from birth.

But one creature said at last, ‘I am tired of clinging. Though I can not see it with my eyes, I trust that the current knows where it is going. I shall let go, and it shall take me where it will. Clinging, I shall die of boredom.’

The other creatures laughed and said, ‘Fool! Let go, and that current you worship will throw you tumbled and smashed across the rocks, and you will die quicker than boredom!’

But the one heeded them not, and taking a breath did let go, and at once was tumbled and smashed by the current across the rocks. Yet in time, as the creature refused to cling again, the current lifted him free from the bottom, and he was bruised and hurt no more.

And the creatures downstream, to whom he was a stranger cried,’ see what a miracle! A creature like ourselves, yet he flies! See the Messiah, come to save us all!’

And the one carried in the current said, ‘I am no more a Messiah than you. The river delights to lift us free, if only we dare let go. Our true work is this voyage, this adventure.’

But they cried the more, ‘saviour!’ All the while clinging to the rocks, and when they looked again he was gone, and they were left alone making legends of a saviour.