Edited by: Magic Dan
Farley Mowat quotes from ‘Never Cry Wolf’. Read by Zed. http://www.fiverr.com/zornaph
Theme Music: ‘Irish Coffee’ by Giorgio Di Campo
Additional Music: ‘Wolf Blood’ by Adrian von Ziegler
‘Ancient Storm’ by Adrian von Ziegler
‘Atmospheres’ by Adrian von Ziegler
‘Heartbreaking’ by Kevin Macleod
‘Hidden Past’ by Kevin Macleod
It’s true, some people, and some families, are more open to sensing and seeing The Good People. Michael shares with us 6 short tales of his experience and knowledge of The Good People.
My aunt May from Ireland, as a little girl, was out in the woods in Ireland, and she got lost. She told me that a beautiful lady in white appeared to her. She was radiant. The lady guided her out of the woods.
And then she was gone. Knowing about the Celtic deities, I wondered if it might be a form of one of the Celtic goddesses. But I don’t really know.
Again, my aunt May, but as an adult, was watching over my grandmother’s sister, Ana, who was on her deathbed, not expected to live. She was a gifted lady in that she was known to see the Good People, reluctantly — because she was a good Catholic.
Well, one day, she turned to my aunt May and said, “May, would you tell the little men on my bed to go away.” My aunt May then said, “Okay, you guys, swoosh! Go on now. Be on your way.”
And she swept the bedspread with her hands. She said, “Okay, Ana, there all gone now, see.” Ana, turned to my aunt May and replied, “Oh, thank God! I feel so much better now.”
My aunts and uncles, I was told, on occasions — when they were children — they would look for the Good People. As for myself, I am like my aunt Ana. I have seen the Good People all my life, so I have had many encounters.
When I was a little child, about 5 years old, I was at my other grandmothers sister’s house. She kept a beautiful flower garden. So many beautiful flowers. I left everyone, and went for a walk through her garden.
Suddenly, little balls of light appeared and danced all about me and around me. I remember feeling so happy and giggling, laughing. It was an entirely magical experience.
The Good People were so interested and curious about me. It was an amazing exchange of energy between us. After a while I was being called in to the house, and the Good People retreated away. It looked like they disappeared into the woods behind the house.
When I was in the cub scouts, we went on an outing in the woods in the state park. We were all sitting around a campfire toasting marshmallows. I sensed that there were eyes in the woods watching us.
Later, as the fire was starting to die down, it was getting late and the smoke was in my eyes. It was an almost hypnotic effect.
Then I turned, and I clearly saw a little man standing high on a big, gray rock at the head of our circle. He wore a furry shirt, like a two toned animal skin; and he had a walking stick in hand. He was laughing and dancing around on the rock. He was soooo pleased with himself, because he knew no one could see him.
But I saw him; and I felt that he knew it. After, about several minutes, he disappeared.
When I lived in Colorado, I traveled way up in the Rocky Mountains, right outside Rky. Mnt. Nat. Pk., where I spent the night in a motel. I was relaxing, reading a book, when little beings of light came in and fluttered about my bed.
They were very curious. I said, “Hello, welcome.” I think they were curious about the meditations I had been doing. They stayed for a little while, until their curiosity was completely satisfied. Then they left.
In the morning, before I left, I left some of my food, with some water, by the side of the front door for the Good People.
Well, that is some of my stories. I hope you enjoyed them. I enjoyed sharing them. I don’t always get the chance to share these stories. Thank you for asking me to share them.
Edited by Magic Dan
Excerpt from ‘Alms in Autumn’ by Rose Fyleman. Read by Emkay.
Tales from the School’s Collection, duchas.ie. Read by cherrypie and cwduddy.
Theme Music: Giorgio Di Campo
Additional Music: ‘Cursed Lullaby’ by Jonathan Segev.
‘Melody of my Dreams’ by Royalty Free Zone.
‘Forest at Night’ by Royalty Free Zone.
‘Traditional Irish Music’ by Live Better Media.
Peter, and his elder sister, recall an incredible, and terrifying, tale of hearing inexplicable voices down a narrow mine pit while driving through County Waterford in 1969.
Particularly compelling is that these voices, though not recognizable as a language, sent a clear message. Thanks to Peter for sharing. Cheers, Kitty.
It was 1969. My dad brought us to Ireland. The plan was to visit Dublin, and then go to a pig farm, I don’t know where. The farm belonged to the mother of a priest my dad knew.
My dad was 100% Irish blood— O’Neils and Rooneys from County Louth. They emigrated during the famine and wound up in California, probably looking for gold.
I was 13. My sister was about 23. Her then husband was along— a big guy, maybe 6’1”. One day the two of them decided to rent a car and drive to Cork and I went with them.
County Waterford. Image: ireland.com
We decided to take a coastal route (through Waterford), and along that route, at some point, we saw a huge bull. We stopped the car and got out a look.
That’s when we saw a sign saying “Danger. Open Mines.”
We found a deep rock pit, almost perfectly square and perfectly vertical, like an elevator shaft through stone, but with a sloped opening so you didn’t dare get close. It was terrifying, and completely unprotected.
We stood there, amazed and a little thrilled by the danger of it. We couldn’t get close but we could see it was deep. And then we heard high pitched sounds from inside the mine shaft.
For a few seconds we stood there trying to figure out what could be making those sounds. There were a lot of them. And here’s the thing— that shaft was a one-way road for anything bigger than an ant or a bird.
If you went down, you weren’t coming back, so we were mystified about what could be down there. It wasn’t the sound of any birds we knew.
And suddenly, we realized, unspoken, that we were listening to voices in conversation. And without a word between us we RAN to the car, terrified, even the six-footer, a guy as big as a football player.
We had to drive a pretty good distance before we could stop and laugh and ask ourselves what had just happened, and what or whom we had just heard.
I thought about this story a lot on a recent trip back to Ireland. I told my son about it and he became intrigued and he worked with me to find the spot. I researched abandoned mines and found the site pretty quickly. I won’t advertise the location. Then my son found the exact spot on Google Earth, and we could actually see the mine.
I wrote an e-mail home about it, and my sister, now in her 70s, responded with the same urgency we’d felt back then.
“With a few variants (which I hope to send to Peter and Rafferty), I can confirm this story.
As I think I wrote earlier, I remember being drawn, first, towards a high pitched, but not unpleasant or shrill, chorus of sounds. Especially for Peter and me, I recall that interest and desire to check it out.
I remember that the sounds were emanating from below, and that we were in taller grasses, looking for the source, and that it was extremely curious, and even musical, in a very strange way, considering where we were– essentially, to me, a small area of shoreline field.
Then, as we got closer, these somewhat musical sounds either changed (as I experienced it,) or revealed themselves to be what those who use captions know as the generic “indistinct chatter.”
In this case, high-pitched, and interactive, and certainly not animal, vegetable, or mineral, much less human. Not directed to us, but possibly related to our presence, with the gist becoming more excitable.
“I remember the second it became “unamusing” and meeting Peter’s eyes, the recognition that this occurrence had the same effect on him — we were fairly near to each other– and the unspoken, unanimous, instinctual response: Not right! Flee! Now! with a strong, shared, also unspoken, undercurrent of Not for Us! (whatever this is…)
I guess the thing that feels strongest in my memory is how instant the shift was, from odd and curious, to, as we got closer and the sounds changed, “Hell, No! WRONG! FAST! OUT!””
I have no explanation for what happened to us, or for what we heard and felt that day.
I’ve read stories of “fairy” experiences in Ireland, and ours doesn’t seem to jibe with what I’ve read. But it was a powerful experience that bore no resemblance to “leprechauns” we knew of from cereal boxes. We had no reason to think of fairies or leprechauns as something that might be frightening.
It’s wee storytime again and we’re off to the seaside.
Come on, sit back, wriggle your toes into the sand.
Never mind the towel or the sunscreen, just let your mind wander from all mundane concerns to ponder the depths of the deep blue sea.
Together we’ll take a peek at our enticingly dangerous neighbours: Mermaids.
Edited by Magic Dan.
Theme Music: Giorgio da Campo
Additional Music: ‘Cloudy’ by Vladimir Khrobystov
‘Calm Seashore’ by Audio Library
‘Nature Ambient’ by Royalty Free Sounds
‘The Mermaid of Gob-ny-Ooyl’ & ‘Teeval, Princess of the Ocean’ from ‘Manx Fairy Tales’ by Sophia Morrison. Read by Librovox. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d4gZxbptEwg&t=2633s
‘The Mermaid and the Fisherman’ by John Foster. From his book ‘Climb aboard the Poetry Plane’, 2000. Read by Emkay.
‘The Seamaid’s Music’ by Ernest Myers. From Librovox. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tFm3wrfWRM8
‘The Mermaid’s Revenge’, ‘The Mermaid’s Courtship’ from ‘The Folk-Lore of the Isle of Man’ by A. W. Moore, 1891.
‘Johnny Croy and his Mermaid Bride’ from Orkney Jar: The Heritage of the Orkney Islands. http://www.orkneyjar.com/folklore/jcroy.htm
‘The Mermaid Poem’ by WB Yeats. Read by Carol.
Boggarts dwell close to Humans, in their house, barn or nearby hill or cave and it is well known that their appearance and temperament vary depending on the region in which they live.
They love to perplex, frighten and annoy us, but rarely cause long-term harm.
Encounters and sightings suggest they appear to favour the North of England. We know they are sometimes super helpful, sometimes bothersome, sometimes so infuriating you sell your house, pack your belongings and move overseas just to get away from your local Boggart.
Oh, did I mention Boggarts love to travel?
They do, and will follow you wherever you go.
Across vast oceans, through raging rivers and over treacherous mountains, once a Boggart has attached itself to you or your family, you best get used to their company.
But there is one fella from the clan of Boggarts who stands out from all others. The Scottish Bogle.
Also known as: The Death Bogle.
One look at this fella and you’ll wish you were walking over a treacherous mountain barefoot, or swimming a vast ocean backstroke…
He is silent, he is deadly.
He is fast, he is determined.
He always collects what he came for.
Kitty offers some tips on how to avoid the Scottish Bogle, takes a look at the difference between Faeries and Ghosts, and reminds you it okay to believe in the Good People.
Have you encountered or sighted the Good People yourself?
Perhaps you know someone who has, or have an old tale of the Good People told in your family?
Don’t be shy, Kitty would love to hear your tale. Share your own experience and read more stories of encounters with Kitty at: firstname.lastname@example.org
For lots of Faerie ideas, insights, facts and fun, be sure to check in daily at Kitty’s Facebook and Instagram pages.
Edited by: Magic Dan.
Theme Music: ‘Irish Coffee’ by Giorgio Di Campo
‘The Scottish Bogle’ written by WD Cocker. Read by Zed. https://www.fiverr.com/zornaph
Additional Music: ‘Evening Breeze’ by Adrian von Ziegler.
‘Ride’ by Adrian von Ziegler.
‘Horror’ by Marc vd Meulen