The stars sparkled in the clear black sky, and the thermometers dipped into the blue as the first chill of winter descended coinciding with the solstice, the crescent moon hung like a grinning voyeur in the sky as the creatures from another realm gathered at the gates to the mortal world to rejoice the coming of winter. The gates were portals from the fairy realm into the world of man, these special places where the barrier between the realms were touching, special places marked by the Druids and Shamans of old, or more magical places where humans walked and stared in awe at the sun’s movements across the countryside or dark shadows in-between the grave stones where spiders spun their webs.
As the blue light from the moon shone across the landscape, the winter sprites were the first to burst into the realm, bringing with them the chill wind of their kind, where they flew, the frosts sparkled, the dew on the hedge rows froze and a haze descended upon the land of freezing mists upon the still rivers and lakes.
The winter fairies are separated in to two fractions, the first bestowing fractural patterns of frost upon the windows of the living, skating merrily across puddles and water troughs and dancing through the long winter grass, their mere presence capturing fields, pastures and lawns in a moment of jewelled beauty as they danced into the sleeping world of man to rejoice upon the solstice.
But this story concerns their frosty fairy cousins; the mischievous winter sprites on their mission of delight for you see these winter sprites with their spikey wings and their darker-tinged skin radiating ice blue. if you are very quiet on a winter’s evening you can hear the near-silent creaking and cracking of their icy trail of destruction and mayhem and if you are very still you might catch a site of them out of the corner of your eye, a blue movement like a snowflake but much, much quicker. Within this magical time, these mischievous winter sprites flew with the song of the fairy kingdom through the Solstice widened portals into the bounds of man; to perform their rites of prank and jest. They flew to where man resided and began their merry dance as they frosted and stuck doors: they spun and danced their black ice upon the paths, freezing pipes and killing delicate plants in the gardens.
This was the night of the winter sprite; so when you struggle with your shoulder at your door in the morning or your key refuses to turn in the lock, or your car’s battery chokes against the winter sprites touch – remember the winter sprites that visited your house. When your water pipes burst and your garden ornaments crack, remember the winter sprites that visited your garden; and when you slip on the unseen ice and fall bruised upon the cold remember the winter sprites that visited your world for they are watching and laughing with glee and mirth at all the fun that they had upon their magical mischievous dance into your world. They are always plotting and planning to hatch the next frosty night, so at winter remember the winter sprites at flight.