Not being able to see my grand daughter

 By Mandy Troughton

It was our last walk together before the lockdown.
"I want to go to the Fairy Glen Nana" my grand daughter said, so off we went to this very special place in Bishopstone Glen, that has charmed children for many decades.   
Sadly, when we arrived, looking down from the footbridge, the tiny cottages/stepping stones/gardens and pretty flowers tiny watering cans etc. were nowhere to be seen...just brambles, chopped down trees, and a collection of branches criss-crossing what was a magical brook, and a tangled mass of bindweed, willow, rotten tree trunks covering the whole area with just the odd ripple of water glistening through the occasional gap .
"But where are the fairies Nana?" 
We decided they had moved house while the wreckage of their precious homes was sorted, so with a sad heart, we made our way through the woodland, and further into the spinny.  
After a while, we discovered a clearing and Lo and Behold! The fairy community had been re-housed!  Little cottages: doorways leading into who knows where: a miniature rope bridge connecting the trees: hanging chimes creating the faintest of tingling sounds giving the whole area a quietly magical feel, and we felt we had to whisper to each other for fear of disturbing the precious residents. 
The joy on her face was indescribable and we spent our whole afternoon visiting each of the tiny cottages being drawn into a whole enchanted imaginative world.