There are no Leshey on this side of the forest; my suburban yard in the American Midwest.

No Leshey to gamble his squirrels away and send them scampering en mass to the winning neighbor Leshey's side of the forest.

Squirrels are the spies of the Folk. The spies of the Forest.

High and silent in the boughs they watch the coming and goings on in each forest track and path. They speed word of travelers to the forests caretakers.

The Leshey is the forests friend, spirit, tennant, shepherd and master of the forests magics. Leshey like it wild. As wild and untouched as possible. Human intruders are seldom welcomed. The Leshey take great delight in annoying, harassing, bewildering and frightening any stray human beings.

When you walk in Broceliande do you feel watched? do you hear the susurrusing whispers that are not quite audible? That are not quite the wind? The Leshey are aware of you. The Leshey are watching.

The Squirrels have snitched on you.

Do not harm the green wood nor hunt in the Leshey's territory. They are so many tree limbs you must walk benieth.
Broceliande's folk are more and less wild, more and less tolerant of strangers. In Broceliande there is a place for the Leshey, and for most and of the folk you might read about in Katherine Briggs 'Encyclopedia Of Fairies".
So much has been taken. The Folk shun humankind and are quick to take offence.

We have taken the land and hold it by Iron. The least of the folk can smell Iron and sicken of it. Iron is a taint to their ground and sharply painful to their noses. The Old Straight Track has been broken by asphalt and Iron. The Rades of The Folk are broken, it hurts even the beautiful silver shod Horses Of The Hills to pass across such roads.

I do not advise the simply curious to visit the Folk in Broceliande. To stumble through Broceliande's ways, without eyes to see is dangerous...and dumb.

In our world people say that grizzely bears have a place in the world even though they are dangerous. Because they are alive. Because they are here. Even thought they are dangerous.

Broceliande is a place of refuge for all manner of dangerous Folk, and mythic creatures. It and places like it are refuges even for the most dangerous of otherworldly creatures and Folk. Even the dangerous need a place to live. They are jealous of what is their's. They have a right to be less than welcomming, given that they have lost so much to the People of Iron.

Idle curiousity is not the best reason to broach their borders. Dabblers be aware. Magic is not a leap into the dark, trusting in the benevolence of others. Who might catch the foolish?

Broceliande has many 'smiling crocodiles' with jaws that open wide.

It also has friends and teachers.

you may go... to the garden or HOME