In many traditions of Witchcraft, Wicca, and Druidry, boundaries—such as stone circles or hedges—are seen as dividing lines between our world and the Otherworld. It is widely recognized that there are beings who exist separately from humans, yet live alongside us in parallel realms. These beings are known by many names, including the Fair Folk, Faeries, the Fey Folk, The Good Folk, the Tuatha de Danaan, The Little People, and The Gentry. Often, they are associated with specific places or regarded as nature spirits, and their diversity is said to be even greater than that of humanity.
These beings inhabit a world that overlaps with our own. In Britain, certain times of the year are believed to bring the worlds closer together, making the boundary between them especially thin. During these periods, it is thought that crossing between realms becomes easier for both humans and the Fair Folk. Beltane (May Day) and Samhain (Hallowe’en) are considered the most significant of these times, when the boundaries are at their most open. Other occasions, such as the solstices, are also linked to folklore about portals between our world and the realm of Faerie.
On one Beltane night, I experienced an encounter that illustrates these beliefs. After a ritual, as the energy of Beltane lingered in the air beneath the full moon, I remained alone in my garden, tidying lanterns and preparing to extinguish the fire. Carrying an offering of milk and honey, I walked across the lawn to an altar beneath an old beech tree, its leaves just beginning to bud. The altar was set within a small stone circle I had built for meditation and ritual, marking a sacred space.
As I entered the circle, I offered a brief prayer and placed the food and drink on the altar, giving thanks to the spirits of the place and to the Fair Folk. Almost immediately, I heard a rustling in the hedge surrounding the garden. It seemed as though a sudden wind was shaking only the coniferous boundary, or as if several animals were moving through the hedge at once. The moonlight filtered through the beech branches, and I stood still, both curious and apprehensive.
The rustling soon stopped, and I sensed that something had crossed through the hedge, though I could not see it. I moved toward the firepit, hoping the firelight would reveal more. As I approached, I felt a presence nearby—a figure, seemingly male, standing by the birdfeeder and the gap in the hedge, about my height and dressed in shades of brown. In an instant, the figure moved silently back into the hedge, and from the darkness, two eyes reflected the fire’s light with a whitish-green glow.
In that moment, it appeared the being had taken the form of a badger, watching from the depths of the hedgerow. I quietly offered a blessing for Beltane. Still feeling a mix of fear and awe, I covered the firepit and slowly returned to the house. Although I had hoped to ask for friendship with the Fair Folk, I found myself unable to speak the words that night, as the energies of Beltane and the Otherworld seemed to flow through the land.
