Creating a faery house, seasonal altar or nature offering...

An offering in the ‘stick house’ ~ Alaska 2019. Creating sanctuary. Planting magic.

First, a note on using faery rather than fairy (which I have used for years)…while reading Witches & Pagans by Max Dashu this past month ~ a very dense and rigorously researched book about the title subjects ~ she mentioned that ‘fairy’ relates more to the Disney-esque/Brothers Grimm era type, and the word faery relates to more archaic, (and in my mind, more reverent of nature) ages. So, I’m playing with using that shift of vowels. Before now I felt strange, and perhaps like an imposter using such a special word. But no longer.

High bush cranberries on an antler and fir needle base ~ for the faeries ~ and apparently a wooly bear caterpillar as well. Simple. Beautiful. Hand plucked by my daughter years ago.

So, here goes…an impromptu share as we enter the darker days of the year.

Step 1. Walk the land upon which you closely reside.

Observe. See what birds fly above. Are there squirrels in the trees? What do you hear? What do you see? How do you feel? Are there spaces that feel extra potent energetically? Do you want to build a permanent space on your property or one that could be moved if you’re renting or transient? Are you on a walk with your child or children in the woods and wish to honor the space?

This time may take days, months, years or maybe an hour.

Step 2. Find a spot.

Perhaps you’re camping and there’s little stream where the shallow waters and sandy shores make it perfect for a little faery beach. Or sticks and conk mushrooms. A hollow in a tree. A nook in the bookshelf. In a circle of cottonwoods or in an aspen grove.

A faery pool. Summer 2021. Impromptu fun.

Maybe there’s a space between the shed and an Elderberry bush. A bunch of shimmery flat stones to play with. That’s been the impetus for the faery house I’m working on now.

Magical occurrence: On the Autumnal equinox this year of 2021, I had gathered aster flowers, sage of two kinds, and juniper twigs; brightly bursting maple leaves, green leafy yarrow, empty snail shells, found bleached bones and feathers from feather finder hill. I planned to decorate the faery house in celebration of this seasonal marker. Recently we’d acquired a bunny. I wanted to bring her outside and enjoy the day. Her outdoor space consisted of stacked up cement blocks. At least she was able to be on the ground with lots of grass to eat and fresh breeze to breathe. I thought they were stacked high enough. Placed her in and then I went about cleaning and honoring the faery house.

Beginning the Autumn Equinox Faery House, 2021.

At one point, maybe 10 minutes in, I heard, ‘check the bunny.’ And so I turned around and there she was. Staring straight at me. Outside the enclosure…turns out she can jump pretty high.

Oh dear…no one else was home. Thankfully the dogs were tied up. The cat was out though. We live in town so there are other dogs and cats nearby at times as well. And…. To catch a rabbit is not an easy thing. We played chase around the lilacs, under the canoe, in the alley, behind the shed, round the trampoline. I tried to tempt her with carrots and apples and plums. She would not let me catch her. Round and round and round we went. After 35 minutes of this I realized the futility and amusement the situation contained…without another person to help, I simply decided to see what happened, as what I was doing was certainly not working. I left some treats in her cage, and set that nearby, and went back to work on the house.

I could keep a bit of an eye on Bun Bun as she traversed the perimeter of the yard. She was keeping an eye on me too. I let go of any expectations of what might happen. As the poster on my wall as a young child stated: “If you love something, set it free. If it comes back to you it’s yours. If it doesn’t, it was never meant to be.” And I laughed at this silly situation. Trying to build a faery house when I should be unpacking things and cleaning or trying to bring in an income…and chasing a young rabbit around the yard, and pondering if I’m going to have to tell my daughter that I lost her rabbit that she’s been wanting for the last year and a half.

Placing yellow rabbitbrush and red twigged osier leaves helped calm. It was a beautiful blue bird sunny day. Magpies were around. I continued placing bits of beauty among the stones. The rabbit hopped closer. More juniper, hawthorn haws, and rounded iron for an arch. Bun Bun came closer. I barely breathed as she inched under the sheet metal that is supposed to be the roof for her outside space. When she hopped right in front of me I carefully and quickly scooped her up. Now that was magic.

Gratitude for the earth, for the harvest, for this life.

Step 3. Use what’s at hand. The first ‘real’ faery house I created was in our home in Alaska. I’d rented, tented and boarded for 9 years before my partner and I bought our first house. There were the remnants of an uprooted and cut at the base, Spruce tree. It looked lonesome and sad and was far too heavy for me to move alone. It seemed it wanted to stay. Over time I added moss, strawflowers, triton & mussel shells, rose petals, dried yarrow & poppy pods, bones, feathers and of course stones. Favorite cups, now cracked or broke, fashioned by an old lovers hand. Memories of walks with old dogs and young kids.

Step 4. Only do it if it feels good to you. And do it from your heart. As simple or elaborate as you have capacity for. Do it on a special day or the day that you have time and inclination. It’s really only become recently where I actively connect on those days of solstice, equinox and the mid points between. And that’s just fine.

For me it feels good to build faery houses and nature altars. To honor the spirits in the area. To have a place to put broken things of many meanings. To alchemize my connection to the worlds that I cannot always see, but can feel, and know in my bones to be true. To acknowledge the plant allies and the faeries who work their magical ways to help germination, growth, bloom and death…

To this offering I also brought a drum and while drumming, something I’ve actually never done before, a whole bunch of birds I cannot name dropped by in the Hawthorn branches to visit. As I drummed louder and faster they suddenly swooshed away with urgency and I felt I’d scared them off. Just after that, a red-tailed hawk swooped over head and cleared up that confusion. Hawks aren’t a common site on this walk so it felt quite significant. These special visitations bring meaning and joy to my world. I had been hoping to find a feather on my walk to this spot, instead a rabbit bounded by…turns out the feathers found me.

Samhain (pronounced “sow-en”) season (Celtic pagan seasonal observance) is now here and it feels so good to be able to sink into this space. A new state for me. Idaho. For a few months we were unanchored. Unmoored. It was so surreal to be living in a place of such heat and dryness. To be jolted into a completely different reality. I was so very accustomed to the mossy, evergreen water filled mountainous place I called home for 19 years…oh Alaska. You taught me so much. Like how making faery houses helps me connect. To slow down and be in this now moment. To simply be a human be-ing. Honoring that which gives me life.

I had to dismantle the Autumn Equinox faery house as we needed some of those stones to reconstruct our fireplace. So on Samhain, October 31, I rebuilt. And planted four oak tree seeds. Put in a solid stone floor. A backdoor. A horseshoe for good luck. Kept the juniper from before. Added more feathers. Placed acorn caps for seats. Lit the candles. Scattered choke cherries. Reconnected with the land, with the spirits, with the faeries. With myself.

When you slow down and listen to nature, listen to the wind and the trees, magic really does happen. I encourage you all to find the archaic joy of creating sanctuary for the faeries…