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never enough books. . .♡

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Today’s fairy story will be very familiar if you've read my other posts. Once again, it's about the fairies of Rothley Mill in Hartburn, Northumberland, England.

Once there was a young boy called Ralph, and he was nothing less than despicable. He pulled up bluebells and daffodils, stole eggs, and was cruel to small animals (no need to go into details here). Every evening he would go to the mill and sit on top of an old kiln and throw stones at anything he happened to take a dislike to, when one evening he heard a strange and beautiful sound - the tinkling of fairy bells. He waited, then suddenly they appeared:

They were lovely to see, none bigger than daffodils but beautifully formed, with long flaxen hair flowing over their shoulders. Their mantles were as green as the sycamore buds in March and each rode a dapper little horse, cream-coloured like a primrose, and beautifully harnessed. They had saddles, bridles, and reins, all neatly stitched and sewn, and from the harness hung little bells no bigger than a raindrop, and each chiming with a pretty sound.

Ralph watched them as they arrived in the mill and made their porridge on little fires made from twigs and fir cones, which they ate out of little acorn cups. After their feast they sang and danced. When they left, there was no sign they'd been there, not even a hoof print. The next night they returned, and Ralph devised a way to hurt them. After a while he climbed upon the roof and, like the miller, hurled a stone down the chimney so it landed in the porridge pot and splashed the fae. "Burnt and scalded!", they shouted, and Ralph was highly amused until them saw him:

... a hundred pairs of little eyes were lifted towards him, and a hundred little fingers pointed at him. "Burnt and scalded! Burnt and scalded!" they cried with so much anger in their voices that Ralph stopped laughing and felt alarmed.

He quickly ran home, but the fairies chased them on their horses and one caught up with Ralph and beat his back. Ralph fell down and cowered in the long grass, and the fairies left. He felt no pain, but from that day on Ralph always walked with a heavy limp.

[Sources: Folk Tales of the North Country by F. Grice, Rothley Castle]

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Château Rolls Royce, Belgium

OBSIDIAN URBEX PHOTOGRAPHY

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(x)

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from “The Gardener” by Mary Oliver

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Hélène Louis Françoise Henriette d'Orléans (detail)

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PRIDE & PREJUDICE 2005, dir. Joe Wright

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This week is for goths vampires and whores

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See you soon, dear Snow Queen.

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Listen to the silence in my eyes.

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Simon Woods as Charles Bingley PRIDE AND PREJUDICE 2005 | dir. Joe Wright

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“The purpose of art is mystery.”

— Rene Magritte (via quotemadness)

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Details - Sandro Botticelli, Primavera. Alexander McQueen, spring, 2018.

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 — Vladimir Nabokov, from Letters to Véra

[ text ID: I’m walking out now into the soft light, the cooling hum of evening, and I will love you tonight, and tomorrow, and the day after tomorrow, and still many more, so very many more tomorrows. ]

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some dracula book covers

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