I knew Maria was different from the moment I first saw her – she didn’t dress like anyone I had ever seen in upstate New York, flowing shirts, leggings, beads, brightly-colored tights. And then, she was not like the other people in many other ways. But I wasn’t exactly ordinary either, so this seemed normal to me, living up on my remote farm. Over time – we have been married three-and-a-half years, I began to notice some things about my wife that were  unusual, ethereal. I suspected I had married a spirit being..

Maria talked to animals, she and the donkeys have chats with one another each morning, they seem to share the news of their lives like women in those old photos from beauty parlors, she speaks to the cats and sheep, they flock to her, surround her, listen to her. She has a spirit/warrior dog, Frieda, who watches over her day and night. She has a relationship with bugs, she catches them in her hands, re-homes them, spiders are drawn to her, she relates very much to them and will not see them harmed. She finds crystals on the path that no one else can find, strange configurations of stones and flowers appear on windowsills, but I never see them being put there or taken down. Strange cats seek her out and rub against her, I hear her talking to her animals friends throughout the day, she has mystical and endless dreams with many twists and turns, and many of them re-appear as the mystical visions and fables in her potholders, streaming pieces and quilts.

She floats through the garden like a wraith, bending down over the flowers, plucking weeds, planting and re-planting, encouraging and nourishing, they bloom before her, thrive in her care.

If you saw her work, you would know she is a spirit creature of some kind, she stands and looks at piles of fabrics, old dresses and towels, faded shirts and hankies, and in her mind, she transforms this potpourri into visions, complex patterns and colors and designs, she sees where every disparate piece is a part of the whole, her hands fly across the fabric and sewing machine as if they are possessed, which they are.  While she works, she dances and sings, her Studio Barn trembles with creation. It is wizardly.

Although she does not love technology, she has begun texting on her Iphone, but I suspect she may be texting her spirit friends, I hear her laughing and cackling sometimes and speaking in tongues. She has the most powerful smile, I have seen it peel wallpaper off of walls, pierce angry and cold hearts.

Maria is a forest creature, she is at  home in the deep woods, exclaiming over the light, the shadows, the rocks and twig formations that I do not usually see. She is barefoot half of the year, she wears long and winding shawls, covers her face with brightly-colored hoodies. There is no other human like her. She sees through things, on to the other side. Sometimes she is too much for me, I am all too mortal. So I began to wonder, is my wife a witch? An angel? A fairy?, sent down to the earth to transform the life of a lost human? How does one live with an ethereal creature and what exactly is she, anyway. She won’t say. She just smiles when I ask her. I can’t tell you, she says, she just smiles mysteriously at me. This is significant, I don’t think the minister knew, although when we married I did see the barn swallows carrying wreaths and dancing in the rafters.

I think Maria is not a witch, witches – good and bad – have magical powers, they practice magic for religious, spiritual or medicinal purposes. That doesn’t sound like Maria, if she were a witch, she would just wash my socks once in awhile by snapping her fingers or chanting. The socks things prove she is mortal, or mostly mortal. And she is not an angel, either, she does not have wings on her back  (that have revealed themselves), nor does she have a halo on her head, and she is associated with no particular religion or brand of spirituality (does being a pagan count? – I’ve dismissed that too.)

After extensive thought, research and observation, I have decided my wife is a fairy. Wickipedia says a fairy is a type of mythical being or legendary creature in mostly European folklore, a form of spirit. Fairies resemble various beings, they are small, slight, agile – they are sometimes call wee folk, good folk, people of peace, fair folk. Maria is all of those things, she is barely more than a midget, skinny as a preying mantis and is fair and peaceful. She is, I have to say, Sicilian in part, and sometimes that does mitigate or overwhelm the wee and quiet folk idea.

She can make a lot of noise when she is angered, and I’m not sure pure fairies do that. Fairies are generally described as being human in appearance and having some magical powers – this makes sense, when I see the images of fairies (I looked online) they looked like Maria, dressed like nature’s hippies, flowing dresses and robes and hoods, touching plants and flowers, necklaces and flowers, adored with plants, nourishing flowers and gardens, dancing with animal (I have seen Maria dance with the dogs and donkeys.)

It is not simple, in addition to witches and fairies, there are pixies, sprints, elves and leprechauns. Maria has elements of some of these creatures, but none of them really fit. The process of elimination works. My research shows that fairies need love and creativity, they must be surrounded by nature, they wither and die in the face of anger, coldness and too much dark. I’m up to it.

So I am getting somewhere. I suppose I feel a bit like the hapless husband in “I Dream Of Jeannie,” a sitcom from the distant past in which Larry Hagman plays a clueless husband trying to deal with a wife who disappears and appears at will – Maria does this, she will be sitting in one room, then suddenly be in another, I never see her actually move, it is as if she goes through the walls. Once or twice I have gone outside to find her sitting up in the barn lofts, or climbing the apple tree to visit the barn cats.

Life with a fairy is different from other kinds of life and marriage. I am lucky to be living with a fairy.