Once upon time, way up north, far, far away, there was a land where fairies danced through the bright summer nights. Gracious was their dance, delicate the movements of their transparent limbs.
To the people of the north, the dance of the fairies looked like the flutter of butterflies and they didn’t hear the twitter when the fairies swirled over the meadows. Only children could here the silvery mirth echoing from the huge stones which surrounded the daffodil meadow.
However, children were not allowed to stay awake on those light summer nights and the fairies continued their dance without viewers. Nothing disturbed their peace, until one Midsummer Night, a tiny boy got lost and fell asleep under the daffodils. His parents were frantic and they looked for him all over the village, but the boy wasn’t found. They strolled along the riverside, but the crystal clear water didn’t reveal anything.
The lazy sun stayed high up in the sky, the evening mist started to rise from the river. The fairies woke up and started the preparations for their dance. They washed their long, golden hair with the water from the river and the drops glittered in the spectre of all colours as they dried their hair in the warmth of the midnight sun.
Some drops fell on the sleeping boy and he opened his eyes. He looked up and saw the fairies twirl around. He had never seen such beauty and he held his breath, afraid to disturb the waltz of the air. But such joy filled his heart, that he had to cry out loud.
The parents saw the butterflies flicker above the golden daffodils and they heard the voice of their son. They found him lying on his back and when his mother told him there was no need to cry anymore, the boy just smiled and didn’t say a word.
The fairies rose higher towards the midnight sun, letting the Midsummer Night magic from their silvery wings fall all over the northern land far, far away.