My Grandson has a Fairy Garden

When we ride bikes around the “block” we pass a house with a fairy garden by their mailbox. Fairy Garden can be a loose term either meaning lawn ornaments to those who go all in and indulge their fantasies. We’re still cultivating the imagination.

Jack chose the spot—a crook at the base in between two trees growing together. He has positioned the little houses and knickknacks on a bark terrace and clustered together into a fairy “town” of which he is a kind of mayor. He’ll show it off, but hasn’t quite fallen into a state of belief that they are anything more than decorative. At this point, a real toy has wheels, moves, functions.

On this rainy morning he is loving his marble run, pointing out to me how the marbles race along the spiraling track, through gates and various wheels into holes, vertical drops, into a basket at the bottom. We’ll do it over and over, until I make a break back to my Tiny House. A kind of Fairy Garden.