The Rose Fairy
Best and dearest flower that grows,
Perfect both to see and smell;
Words can never, never tell
Half the beauty of a Rose—
Buds that open to disclose
Fold on fold of purest white,
Lovely pink, or red that glows
Deep, sweet-scented. What delight
To be Fairy of the Rose!
--Cicely Mary Barker
This place is full of a quiet magic in summer, it has none of the commanding beauty of it's western sister. Instead, it whispers its stories in the gentle lapping of waves against low-lying rocky shores, where narrow roads snake the coastline, winding endlessly past quaint Victorian and Cape Cod houses, and meadows painted pink and purple with lupines. Lupines are everywhere here, their elegant stalks swaying and dancing in the wind, wild denizens of the eastern seaboard.
It's the Lupin Faeries we have to thank for their presence here. In springtime they travel up and down the coastline, sprinkling their seeds. They don't need much to thrive, as their name 'lupinus' suggests, they are 'wolf flowers', as resilient as they are lovely.
This particular bend in the road belongs to Ereni. She will tell you humbly that the work of every Lupin Faerie is to bring more beauty into the world.
"You must do something to make the world more beautiful"
--Miss Rumphius, The Lupine Lady
Ereni, the Lupine Faerie, stands "8.5 x 5". She is entirely hand stitched from natural fibres with the exception of her wings. She is dressed in hand dyed cotton & silk organza, vintage lace and wool felt. Her blue tit is needle felted and stands on a felted base of wool moss and flowers. She is available in the shop.
The birds are gone to bed, the cows are still,
And sheep lie panting on each old mole-hill;
And underneath the willow's grey-green bough,
Like toil a-resting, lies the fallow plough.
The timid hares throw daylight fears away
On the lane's road to dust and dance and play,
Then dabble in the grain by naught deterred
To lick the dew-fall from the barley's beard;
Then out they strut again and round the hill
Like happy thoughts dance, squat, and loiter still,
Till milking maidens in the early morn
Gingle their yokes and start them in the corn;
Through well-known beaten paths each nimble hare
Sturts quick as fear, and seeks its hidden lair.
—John Clare
Aneira is an old soul, a throwback to another time, and accordingly she refuses to wear anything from this century (or the last!). Her tiny old fashioned velvet coat and delicate lace dress were hand stitched from a lovely antique bonnet that I've been carrying around since I discovered them in a magical little shop in Devon (with just such a project for Aneira in mind!).
They are looking for a home today. Their price is $980 USD plus postage. They are art dolls and not suited for play, Aneira is sewn onto Enfys' back. Shipping charges are $35 to the US and Canada, and $50 for International.
