Long ago, in the enchanting and mysterious moorlands of Dartmoor, there existed a magical world that coexisted alongside the realm of humans. This hidden world was inhabited by a peculiar and fascinating group of beings known as the Piskies. These tiny, elusive creatures were known for their playful and mischievous nature, darting about the moors and engaging in all manner of pranks and tricks. Yet, behind their mischief, the Piskies possessed a kind-hearted nature that endeared them to the people of Dartmoor.
The people who lived in the villages surrounding the moorlands understood the importance of maintaining a delicate balance between their world and that of the Piskies. As a sign of goodwill and friendship, they would place small dishes of cream and plates of food outside their homes at night. This simple act of kindness ensured that the Piskies would watch over the village and its inhabitants, offering protection and assistance when needed.
Stories of the Piskies and their escapades were passed down through generations, enthralling children and adults alike. These tales spoke of the Piskies’ love for music and dance, their penchant for playing tricks on unsuspecting travellers, and their fondness for the various plants and creatures that shared their moorland home. Bog cotton, known locally as Pixie Grass, and the enchanting Piskie Cups, a bright red cup-shaped lichen, were said to be particular favourites of the little folk.
But, as with all magical beings, there was a darker side to the Piskies. If they felt slighted or disrespected, their wrath was swift and severe. Offending the Piskies could lead to a series of unfortunate events for the transgressor. Babies might be stolen and replaced with changelings, horses ridden to exhaustion, or dairy products spoiled during their creation. The Piskies could even cause chaos and mayhem by pinching people as they slept or making objects disappear, only to reappear in the most unexpected places.
One of the most feared abilities the Piskies possessed was their power to bewilder and disorient travellers who ventured into their domain. These unfortunate souls would find themselves hopelessly lost, wandering aimlessly for hours, even days, until they eventually stumbled upon their destination or returned home exhausted and confused. This phenomenon, known as being “Piskie Led,” remains a source of anxiety for visitors to Dartmoor even today.
In spite of the increasing influence of science and reason in the modern world, belief in the existence of Piskies persists. Tales of encounters with the little people continue to be shared amongst friends and family, especially after a few cups of cider at the local inn. Some even use the excuse of being “Piskie Led” to escape the ire of an angry spouse after a late night out.
These captivating beings serve as a reminder of the magic and wonder that still exists in the world, waiting to be discovered by those who dare to believe. They embody the human desire to connect with something beyond ourselves, to find solace in times of trouble, and to celebrate the blessings of good fortune.
As the stories of the Dartmoor Piskies are passed down from one generation to the next, they continue to enchant and inspire. These tales invite us to step beyond the boundaries of the mundane and to embrace the mysteries and marvels of the unknown. So, let us journey together into the magical world of the Piskies, where the impossible becomes possible, and the wonders of the imagination know no bounds.
Twilight Tales of Dartmoor Piskies
In Dartmoor’s wild and windy moor, Where heather and granite tors endure,
A hidden realm of magic lies, Where Piskies dance ‘neath twilight skies.The ancient stones, the whispered breeze, Hold secrets of these mysteries,
Of tiny folk with twinkling eyes, Their laughter like the larks that rise.Oh, Piskies of the Dartmoor land, In moonlit circles, hand in hand,
Your mischief and your gentle grace, Entwined within this hallowed place.The village folk, with offerings sweet, Would leave a dish of cream to greet,
The Piskies, who in kind would share, Their aid and favour, tender care.But woe betide the ones who dared, To scorn or slight, no effort spared,
For Piskie wrath would swift descend, To curse and vex, to twist and bend.From wandering lost in foggy vales, To milk turned sour, to crops that fail,
The tales of old, a warning clear, Respect the Piskies, hold them dear.For Dartmoor’s charm, its wild embrace, Is woven with their unseen grace,
And as the years may pass and fade, Their spirit lingers, undismayed.
