At the bottom of a steep hill, above the sun-sparkling, rain-swollen tumbling stream, rests a small stone circle, a mini Stonehenge. Built for the Faerie Folk some years ago, it is a sort of Faerie ring in stone.
The Faerie Folk certainly have more beautiful, wondrous, magical places to visit. Still, I watch the wee ones gathered within the circle of stones, sometimes simply chatting; other times smoking their pipes, deep in thought, as they watch the ever-dancing stream below.
It is mostly the smaller Brownie and Bree folk, both women and men, who visit the circle, although I have been told the much taller Gnomes and Elves also visit there from time to time. True, the Faeries have more magical places to be, but they still visit my little stone circle, for I built it out of my love for them. They know this, and to return that love, they frequent the little stone circle.
They tell me that sometimes, in the late hours of the night when all the humans are asleep, the Faeries gather there to talk, to sing, to dance. They have extended an open invitation for my beautiful wife and me to join them there if we wish. I hope someday we will both have enough magic to meet them at their gathering.