6 Short Tales of Encounters with the Good People

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.



33 – The Good People and Trees

hawthorn tree2

Faerie Trees. Usually Hawthorn or Ash, are all over Ireland and easily spotted. It is well known to touch, move or remove one of the Faerie’s Trees angers the Good People.

hawthorn tree

There are many instances where the Good People have taken revenge on a person or people foolish enough to meddle with one of their trees.

But why?

Why do the Good People treasure, and protect their trees so fiercely?

What purpose might they serve in the society of the Good People?

Kitty ponders whether it’s time we take a fresh look at our relationship with the trees around us and whether we can learn from the Good People.


As always, Kitty shows you it’s not only okay to believe in the Good People, but it makes you a vastly more interesting person!

Have a story of the Good People you would like to share, or just want to say hello? You can contact Kitty at


Need a dose of the Good People between Podcast episodes? You can catch lots more Faerie musings, fun and facts with Kitty on:

Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/encounterswiththegoodpeople
or Instagram at http://www.instagram.com/encounterswiththegoodpeople
or watch episodes of this Podcast on YouTube at http://www.youtube.com/channel/UCZISzueo7YXNPwowda2p0zQ

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.

Voices From Below

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.



dublin 1969

 Dublin, Ireland. 1969.

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 ireland com 

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.bull (2)

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.

mine hole (2)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. 

tall grass (2)

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.


32 – Pixies

dartmoor moorland devon
Dartmoor, County Devon

The Pixies of South-West England. Mind you don’t call them Faeries now, for they have fought and won a war to earn the title of Pixie.

Thankfully, a Faerie war is a rare thing, but it does leave us with many questions…

But what does a Faerie war look like?

What weapons do they use?

Are Faerie/Pixies killed in a Faerie war?

Kitty takes a look at the unique landscape of south-west of England and ponders why the Pixies are so fixed in, and territorial of, this particular location.

a rackham (2)

by Arthur Rackham


We take a stroll with a fella who was lucky to survive being Pixie-led during a terrifyingly heavy mist and consider the close relationship between Pixies and horses.

jb monge2

by Jean Baptiste Monge


As always, Kitty reminds you that, not only is it okay to believe in the Good People, it probably makes you a better person!

Have you ever been Pixie-led? Or know someone who has? Kitty would love to hear your experience. You can contact Kitty at glassonionstories@gmail.com

Please Follow, say hello and join in the chat at http://www.facebook.com/encounterswiththegoodpeople or http://www.instagram.com/encounterswiththegoodpeople

You can now watch Encounters with the Good People Podcast on YouTube.

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And be sure to Give the Video a Thumb’s up too, and let Kitty know you’re watching/listening. Kitty’s YouTube Channel



Wistman’s Wood


Edited by Magic Dan

Theme Music: Giorgio Di Campo

Additional Music: ‘Cattails’ by Kevin MacLeod.

‘Quiet Place’ by Jonny Easton’. https://jonnyeaston.wixsite.com/jonny…

‘Night Mist’ by Adrian von Ziegler

‘Evening Breeze’ by Adrian von Ziegler

Miss Susan Gay quote from ‘Fairy Faith in Celtic Countries’ by Evans-Wentz. Read by Carol.

Old Farmer Mole tale read by thecherrypie.
‘Tale of the Dartmoor Pixies’ by William Crossing
‘Peep at the Pixies’ by Mrs Gray.
‘Magical folk: British and Irish Fairies 500ad to the Present,’ by Simon Young and Ceri Houlbrook. https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/36648948-magical-folk?ac=1&from_search=true

counties of england

Counties of Cornwall, Devon and Somerset in the South West of England.


31 – Pocket Podcast – Mermaid Tales.

mermaid16 (2)

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.

Podcast Credits.

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.


30 – The Death Bogle

boggart2 (2)

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.boggart5 (2)

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.


pitlochry (2)


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:

For lots of Faerie ideas, insights, facts and fun, be sure to check in daily at Kitty’s Facebook and Instagram pages.

www.facebook.com/encounterswiththegoodpeople www.instagram.com/encounterswiththegoodpeople

Podcast Credits:
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

Spirit of Place – Aran Islands

Five years ago, I started a tradition of swimming naked at dawn on my birthday. The why and how of this tradition is a story for another time. I have always felt a connection to Ireland and almost from the start, I wanted to perform this ritual there. In June of 2017 I had my chance.

It was a trip of a lifetime; two weeks on my own exploring ancient sites in Ireland with the bonus of celebrating my birthday there as well.  HB4116

I spent June 28th on Innis Óir, the smallest of the Aran Islands and on the morning of June 29th had booked afternoon passage on the Happy Hooker, a ferry that would take me to Innis Mór, the largest of the Aran Island where I would spend my birthday.

The trip across was uneventful, I walked to Claí Bán (White Fence) my B&B and settled in.

I had some research and I found Kilmurvey beach about three and a half miles from my B&B that seemed suitable.

Claí Bán (White Fence) b&b (2)Because swimming naked on a public beach can sometimes be frowned upon, I always check out the beach the night before, and so I rented a bike and began to peddle.


The road followed the coast past a seal colony, where there were no seals at the time. I was disappointed since I had wanted to see seals in Ireland. Perhaps some other when or where, and I peddled on and ten minutes later I was standing on the beach.

nicole kilmurvey beach

Kilmurvey beach is not as secluded as I had hoped, as it was quite visible from the road with no cover. Still, there were few houses around and I felt there would likely be no people awake and about at 5:00 am that I could swim there the next morning safely enough without later finding myself before an Irish magistrate trying to explain my lack of bathing suit.

I went to dinner and back to my room with the intent of an early bedtime. However, preparing for the next morning and more of my trip kept me up past 11:00 pm.  The wind was gusting wildly that night and the weather report for the morning was not promising. The wind would still be up and the temperature down with rain in the forecast.

nicole clockNonetheless, I was determined to have my swim and set my alarm for 4:00 am, turned out the light, met Morpheus and went to sleep.

It will come as no surprise to anyone that a 4:00 am alarm is a difficult one to keep. Especially after a late night.

When the alarm went off, I decided that I could afford another fifteen minutes and went back to sleep. When the alarm next went off, I pulled myself out of bed and dressed for the ride, all the time listening to the wind howling outside.

Just as I was ready to walk out the door, a text from my ex Kim, arrived.  Even though we were no longer lovers, we were still close and she had helped to make my trip to Ireland a reality. She had stayed up late in the states to be the first to wish me a Happy Birthday. The clock was ticking as we texted back and forth.

Of a sudden I realized that I had to get on my way, and said a very abrupt goodbye to Kim and headed to my bike.

Weather forecasts are notoriously inaccurate, but this time it was post on. When I reached my bike the sky was filled with steel wool clouds, the temperature was a cool 52f (11.1c)  degrees with wind 13 mph (20 kph). I looked at my phone for the time and it was already 4:50 and there was twenty minutes to make it to Kilmurvey beach for the dawn.

nicole sky

I am not in the best of shape and in no way did I think I could make the four-mile ride to make the sunrise. I won’t lie, I hesitated and considered not going. I was already going to be late, the weather was unpleasant at best, and I was tired. No one would know I didn’t take this chance, I could tell them anything… except I would know.

I would know that I passed on at least trying to take the opportunity to do my ritual in Ireland. Not at exactly dawn, but close and that would have to do. I mounted the bike and headed to the beach. I would swim in the in the ocean on my birthday at dawn or no.

The wind was not at my back, and the trip seemed even more difficult than the night before. Peddling as fast as I could, I was berating myself for not planning better, for not keeping to schedule, and allowing myself to be distracted. I was going to have settle for almost.

I swerved onto the road that would take me to Kilmurvey beach, and the ocean. The wind was biting my skin and my eyes were tearing from the cold. Ten minutes and 1 mile (1.6 km) into my ride, I looked to my right.

There was a small beach , a beach that was not there the night before. It lay below the road, with a ramp leading down to it. I walked my bike down and stood for a moment. The sun was not yet touching the horizon, but first light had arrived and it was light enough for me to see.

This beach was not large and most certainly was not a beach of white sand where people laid their towels, set up their umbrellas and chairs. People did not slather themselves with SPF 50  sunscreen here and read a book found on a “Summer Must Read” list that appeared as they scrolled through their Facebook news feed.

This beach was primal.

nicole 2

The world was at my back and I looked at a beach that could be millions of years old. It lacked color in the predawn light, but I could see the random carpets of algae on the sand. Rocks covered with shaggy ea weed hair were scattered across the beach and miniature rivers cut small canyons through the sand.

The predawn light revealed one other thing, a path of sand clear of rocks, algae and debris that led to the water.

It was at this moment I noticed the wind had died down, and the air felt warmer. The clouds on the horizon were breaking, and I could see where the sun would be rising. I looked at my phone. I had about 5 minutes before the edge of the sun touched the rim of the earth.

I felt I was given my beach.

I took my clothes off and made my way to the edge of the water. The waters off Ireland are cold, very cold. But the water that washed over my feet, while cold, was not the frigid water I had read about. I moved forward, watching the horizon brighten. I looked down at the water. It was teaming with jelly fish. It was as if I was being asked, “I gave you this beach, took the wind, warmed the air… How much do you want this thing you came here for?”

There was not much time to hesitate or debate. With a deep breath of determination and with the sun coming up I dove naked into the water and swam past the jelly fish into deeper water. The edge of the sun was now just visible, and I had done the thing I had come for.  I swam for a short time more, and now with the sun half over the edge of the world it was time to come out.

nicole 3

I did not know when the road would come back to life so I made my way back to my bike and toweled myself off and dressed myself.

I sat and watched the sun light the clouds as it rose above the horizon. Fully risen, fully visible in the breaks of clouds and then hidden with rays of light bursting above and below the clouds that blocked the sun.

When the sun had moved behind clouds that made it clear it would not be visible for a while, it was time to go.

nicole 1I walked the bike up to the road and the wind came back up to bite me once more.

I rode back to my B&B, to rest before I joined the rest of the day.

The land had one last (or so I thought) surprise for my birthday, to my right was a rainbow.

That morning I was sure I was not going to swim in the dawn light breaking over Ireland, that I had missed what could be my one chance. I couldn’t have been more wrong.

Believe what you will, I believe the magic of the land made the impossible possible.