Last week I was invited to share stories through in a country park outside Glasgow.
The theme of the event was Scarecrows, and a number of community groups, schools and ethnic groups had participated in the project by creating their own scarecrow to be exhibited at this event. We had plant-pot people-crows a giant bat-crow, and even a rather endearing little hedgehog-crow, so the audience for the stories was even more eclectic than usual!
I was to gather groups as they arrived, leading them past the owl handling site, through the hawthorns to the scarecrow grove for a story, one befitting to the themes of the day.
Well, I didn’t have any scarecrow stories, but there was plenty around for inspiration, with the hawthorn being a tree of the Faeries the first group of woman listened eagerly to the tale of Tormad Crupach (Crippled Norman) and his venture into the faery realms, the autistic group mixed with another primary school and lapped up the Magic Garden from Kazakhstan, the owls and other birds of prey featuring strongly.
Being on the West Coast, I felt it only right to share the creation story of the Midgie, born of of the remains of Norway’s most loathsome giant, and was reminded of the dearness of being 8 when anything is believable!
The forests of Kintail, and the witches who live on the fringes, and the mountainous North of Scandinavia, where snow bears and trolls dwell completed the afternoon.
Each group responded warmly, and I’m sure would have been at home in any ceilidh, and each left with an invite, as they had heard a story that day, maybe they had a story of their own to tell someone else.
I’ve been invited back in June, and am hopeful there’ll be a tale or two coming back at me.