A Cautionary TaleThe young man hesitated before taking the challenge that Gwyn had offered. The sound of the flute had been moving and spoke of something that touched him but something he could not give full name to. Gwyn sat on his mound, his green silks about him, making his rock a special place.- Here the veil is torn and one can hear such music for ever he saidThe young man stepped into the mist and he danced, oh how he danced, until he felt dizzy with the sound. And they feasted; wine and mead flowed from the otherworld and Gwyn laughed at the young man but not cruelly taking pleasure. Was it the magic mushrooms that grew on the soggy hillsides at Dinas Oleu that had given a portal into this world? He reeled and fell into the trap until the vision faded and he was on the denuded hillside quite alone.Gwyn had changed his appearance. He was no longer shining but appeared in rags.-how do I find my way back into fairyland? ... the young man enquired.-tell no one the King of The Tribe repliedThe young man lacked confidence in the vision and when he went down from the hill he saw The Mawddach slithering behind misty hills as it meandered its way to the heartland. A man passed him-you have the dew on your face. You have been in the land of the younghe said-yesreplied the young man- The young must grow oldsaid the manThe man told him that Gwyn ap Nudd, the King of the Fairies, was a shapeshifter. The young man had betrayed his word.Ever since then the young mans family had kept an iron pot outside the door to prevent intrusion from the otherworld. The young man never found his way back to Fairyland and Gwyn ap Nudd remained a memoryMy response to folk memory and the power of myth. The magic mushrooms did grow on the hill sides above Bermo and were readily used by the resident hippy population. Dinas Oleu lies on a hillside above Bermo and was a place of mystery at least in the minds of older local storytellers, the majority of which I assume to be dead now. Folk memory embellishes of course yet leaves a stain on our native imaginationsand I think this is what I have written about.Iron, according to the Old Folk, was protection against the fairy people.