An article from August 2017 Follow up to White Snow

Yesterday a friend and I returned to the environs of the fairy hill where I had met and talked with Eirwen previously. My friend (S) is a spiritual medium, and a very good one. My initial meeting with Eirwen is recounted in White Snow.

On that first occasion I’d asked Eirwen if she would like to meet S, and she had told me she would.

S had been looking forward to this visit since I’d related the incident to her, weeks ago. In between times she had had a visit from a spirit that sounded like a Fae to me, but it wasn’t Eirwen. The visitor had peered at her through the glass of her back door.

Due to bad weather, and too good to miss Y Ddraig tracing, this was the first opportunity I had to return. We needed to be back at my friend’s house in time for her husband coming home because he hadn’t taken his key with him. Waving him goodbye we set off.

Parking as close as we could, we made the trek through the rampant brambles and nettles, up the bumps and crags of a well herded pasture, and into the field where I’d met Eirwen previously.

As we approached the fairy hill a strong headache came upon my friend and I was already having that bi-locating feeling. My light-hearted mood began to drift away.

S called to Eirwen and while she sat down on the embankment with her back to the fairy hill, I wandered down to the spot where I’d conversed with the Fae spirit on that earlier occasion. I closed my eyes and silently greeted her.

Immediately, a very warm tingling came up through my feet and trickled through my whole being…then I heard my friend calling me.

She had just spoken to Eirwen in Welsh, she said, and had received a reply, “I’m not myself today”. S said she saw her as a small being, looking like a bright green and purple flame. (S was a bit frightened of it, but it was just Eirwen in her essential elf form. In this article, ‘Icy Journeys’, I recount an incident with a tall one (well, seemingly – they can make themselves appear different sizes) that had guided me home during the great ‘Beast from the East’ blizzard, in February 2018)

I walked back to where my friend was sitting and parked myself on the turfed embankment too. We were quite close to the hawthorn tree where Eirwen had shown herself to me upon my leaving that previous time.

Both of us were aware of being watched by many little eyes from all around. Some were no doubt animals and insects, but I could sense and see little people as well. S could too. Intermittently we heard rustling and strange chirruping behind us, as if we were being spoken to but neither of us could understand or hear any recognisable words. A breeze picked up and I wasn’t sure if I was hearing children’s voices carried on the wind, or something else. My friend was hearing something similar and wondering the same. We were far away from where any children would be. (This reminded me of when I heard children laughing and playing, the other side of the wall, at Newgrange. There were no children there either.)

Briefly, I saw a darkish brown shaggy-haired dog mooching about, tail up and wagging, sniffing the ground. Without me mentioning it my friend said, “I can hear a dog barking by us.”

The thought came to me to go down the hill and check how Y Ddraig felt today. As I walked away, I had to dodge quite a few fresh cow pats, so there had been cows in the field recently. I noticed that the fence was now gone so didn’t need to go that far.

I found the Dragon and traced Her back. The pattern was identical, but Her energy felt very quiet and relaxed, almost resting, something seemed odd.

When I sat back down with my friend again, she remarked, “Did you know that your facial features change when you are dowsing? They just did then… they began to look like an elf’s.” No, I didn’t know that. “Of course, you wouldn’t, you’re not looking at yourself,” she chuckled…”and do you know what else happened?” she said, You vanished! One minute you were there and the next over there,” pointing to both places. The second was when I had stopped where Y Ddraig had gone into the fairy hill.

I’ve disappeared many-a-time, according to companions at the time and even have a photograph of it happening, while I was speaking at a conference in St. Anne’s, near Blackpool.

 

The noises continued, sometimes very close. My friend could see an old bent over woman, dressed in black, far over by where I’d sensed being under water last time. S thought she looked to be gathering sticks. The impression she had was that the woman had been a neighbour of Eirwen’s, but that they didn’t get on.

As we waited for any further signs of Eirwen, slowly, almost imperceptibly, a mist was forming around us. It took a little while to realise, and I remarked on it to my friend. “I’m feeling sleepy,” she sighed. “Don’t do that!” I hastily replied, as I realised what was occurring, “That’s the last thing you want to be doing here!”

It was at that moment I started to feel a strange kind of headache coming and began to feel drowsy too… I knew it was time to leave, but made no effort to at all, and S would have been feeling the same, I expect…we stayed there, listening, waiting. Both of us kept yawning, feeling sleepier and sleepier…S, her eyes proper closed and head bent forward…She was asleep!

“Come on! We have to go!” I somehow managed to blurt out.

Wearily, drowsy and leaden legged we made it to the field’s edge. I helped my friend out first, over the field wall and under the wire on top…, but then this ever increasing feeling to stay (‘just a little longer’) rolled through me till it felt, for all the world, like I was being physically pulled back, back to the fairy hill. I struggled, and I struggled against the unseen power and eventually managed to crawl through the wire and into the next field. The drowsiness increased more though, not less. Trance-like we listlessly stumbled down the rutted hill and into the old church llan below, out of sight of the fairy hill. Several yards into the enclosure it felt like I’d had a bucket of cold water thrown on me, and I came to, we were in the sanctuary of Ffraed’s heart at last. We had to cross running water and we knew just a 5-minute walk along the winding path would be the little bridge over the infant river.

About 10 yards outside the llan, on the other side of it, the tiredness and trance-state rushed back upon us again. I looked around, and there, radiating through the briars and brambles, was the fairy hill. At that moment it came to me that I hadn’t looked around when I’d exited the field, like I had last time, when I saw Eirwen in her Fae dress, to wave farewell… Was I expected to? Should I have?

If I had, would S have returned to her husband?…and would I be here writing this to you now?

 

Ellis
13th August 2017