as a small child, my sister used to walk home from school with her nose in a book. she'd pause from time to time to crack some kid or another over the head with her lunch-box because that kid had stepped on an ant or squished a worm. I wasn't as dedicated to either C.S. Lewis or regnum animalia and spent the time climbing snowbanks and hunting for elves among the tree roots.


I found them, too. there's a stretch along the next street down where old maple trees grow between the sidewalk and the road, standing on gnarled clumps of roots because there's not quite enough space for them to spread underground. that's where the elves lived. in sturdy little houses made of sticks and leaves propped up between the tree knobs and tufts of grass.


it's where they worked, too. they sat on bark ledges and made shoes, because that's what elves do.


we didn't have any elves in our yard. just fairies. garden-fairies that lived in flowers and communed with bumble bees and butterflies. spring faries, summer fairies and autumn fairies. there are winter fairies too, though, of course, they don't live in flowers. the spring flowers are out now, but I haven't seen any fairies yet this year. they're much better at hiding than they were 15 years ago.