The Faerie Folk

We were on our way to our new house far away from the city and nestled in Glendale moors. It was a clear sunny day the light brought out the stunning sweet greens shades out of the fields. A short breeze blew a deep earthy smell into our carriage which made us sigh the awed breaths. The air was so clean here and not choked by smog or the diseased coughs of others, this place was pure.

Arrival took a lot longer than expected. I wanted to settled here before Sarah was pregnant but we were arriving too close to the birth of our first child. I worried on our journey if my wife would go into labour as Sarah looked ready to pop. Yet she laughed at my concerns and told me to think of our new home and the bumps in the road. Looking out the window I remembers it was years ago I had decided to buy the land and hire men to build us a home. Construction strained leaving many workers to go missing or leave the job refusing pay. It cost me a lot of our money but I had enough to spare with my new job and the passing of my father. The past doesn't matter now, the house completed and we were on our way to call it home.

We reached the village and the horses started to slow huffing and frothing at their mouths. We urged them to keep going as our home was still a distance way from this quaint civilization. Yet the horses buckled and we related to rest them and stay at the local inn.

The horses calmed once stabled and the disappointment the early stop was soon forgotten. With luck we delighted ourselves with the village locals who taught us the history of their lives. To think many had never left the borders not even to visit the next local town! They warned us the moors pitfalls how to stay clear of the long thin pointed plants or else we'd sink to our deaths. This was advice most gratefully received, as we learnt the wonder and foul moods of nature. To Sarah's delight one old woman spoke to us of the villages odd superstitions. We smiled as we heard tales of the faerie folk who lived up in our land. She told all kinds of trick and fun games to try like leaving silver horseshoes under the child's crib. Also a saucer of milk in the doorstep to keep the troublesome pixies away. On the carriage trip the next morning we remarked on how it was the most fun we had in years. The city was too mechanical and serious in well not nature. Here everything seemed alive.

We arrived at the house and it was a wonder. A stunning piece of city architecture seated on top the vast beauty of nature. This would be our home, one where my wife and child can breath clean air as I travel to and fro from work. If I'm lucky I may be able to set up business in the local village to afford our comforts in my future retirement.

We spent the first day rearranging furniture. I tried to stop my Sarah from helping but she wouldn't listen. She pushed cabinets across the floor baby belly and all. She soon felt tired and rested as I finished the upstairs nursery. Later as the night settled in I went to the kitchen and caught my wife leaving a saucer of milk on the back doorstep. She said it would be quite fun to follow old village traditions and I laughed at her silly ways. The next morning I noted the milk had been drunk in the night by some wandering fox or hedgehog. I would have preferred it in my tea but we did plan to get close by nature so we might as well feed it too.

As we settled I left for the city for work it was painful to leave Sarah but a few weeks away would not hurt. Yet when I returned a young boy rushed to me, shouting a message from the midwife that my Sarah had taken into labour. I thanked him with a shilling and spurred the horses home. I waited in the drawing room as my wife went through the birthing upstairs. To my relief I heard her cries of joy and the cries of our baby. I ran upstairs meeting the midwife part way who told me both were healthy and only needed a good rest. I went into the room to find an exhausted wife and disgruntled baby boy who was calming down from his ordeal. I kissed them both on the forehead and Sarah told me we should name him George after my father. We didn't leave the room that night. I took the crib basket and blanket from the nursery so baby George could have a comfy place for his first sleep.