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‘Walking in a very [?] garden, ***, a sunken area with a main street that ran along the top. There were halogen lights on this street, but none in the garden. It was late winter, not especially cold. My husband was there. Strolling along behind me, rather bored by the whole idea of a walk. I was up ahead of him quite a bit. This garden is formal, but parts are naturalized going into a the remains of a forest, which still has some virgin timber. There is a creek that runs through one end of it and there is an overflow ditch, very deep, which meanders through the whole thing area. Across the road is an estate called *** that has never been cut and, though open to the public, maintains the policy that visitors remain on the path and disturb nothing. These two places belonged to contemporaries, and are held in trust which protects them from destruction or development. Okay. As to my experiences. It was dark. I was walking some distance from my husband when I spotted a light in a tree. It was glowing green light about the size of a child’s ball. I thought it was probably a Mylar balloon, stuck in the bare branches and catching light. I was trying to determine where it could be reflecting light from. I stepped closer, and then, though it might be hard to believe, I forgot about it. I was standing by the deep overflow ditch and something else caught my attention. It is difficult to describe. The best I can describe it is that a small bit of space around a bush got darker and busy. Somehow, about of this a small thing appeared. It looked like a classic Brian Froud illustration of a Gnome. Maybe three-feet high, rustic clothes: pants, shirt, vest and slouchy leather hat. The pants and vest seemed an brownish green, the shirt pale. The hat was a russet color. His eyebrows were bushy, hair long, unkempt and both brows and hair were white. His face was hairless, but [th]at wore a scowl. I have no idea how I saw the colors in the dark. This man, for he seemed male, was completely unanimated. I was struck dumb for a moment. Then, I screamed and ran for the car. I remember that I yelled ‘We have to get into technology and drive away.’ My husband ran as fast as I. We were in a wooded and secluded area near downtown Atlanta. He had no idea what I had seen, but he knew that I was terrified. He probably thought I had stumbled upon a murdered body. I really had sheer panic. I went back to the daylight and can only add that there was no Mylar balloon in the tree and that the bush the Gnome materialized at was what we in the south called Mountain Laurel. Native American tribes here have many Little People Beliefs, some of which seem to be near what your stories over there might be. Helping with farm work, taking travelers into lands where time moves faster and in Georgia and North Carolina (which are located in part in the Appalachian mountains.) I know that there are a couple of what are known as townhouses. I swear that I was sober when I had my experience and that it was truly one of the most important events in my spiritual life.’ ‘[It was] a very special, quiet place.’ ‘Because of the place [I thought a fairy]. If you look into the background of the *** garden and *** the very large nature center across the road, you will find that their owners protected them from development. These are in *** Georgia USA not far from downtown. ***’s family tried to have her ruled mentally incompetent, for refusing to have a hundred or so acres undeveloped. I think the place is sacred. The timber is virgin.’ ‘That there are more things in heaven and earth..etc.’ ‘I had a paranormal experience age five. At my Grandmother Tanners house, all the doors had hook and eye latches on the OUTSIDE of the doors. My grandmother could close them all. We sat in a small central hall, in front of a open flame gas heater. I was in her lap. The hook was hanging loose on the door and as I watched it, it began to swing. I immediately told my grandmother that it was my sister playing a trick. She answered in a low voice, without fear or excitement, ‘No, it ain’t ***’. But I went into the room and searched the closet and was halfway under the bed, when I knew I was alone. But my Grandmother saw it too. That made it unquestionably true in my mind.’