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‘My brother and I went up *** Crag near ***, North Yorkshire one summer evening, leaving his old motorbike at the bottom and walking up. We had been sitting about chatting for a while, watching the evening slowly turn to night when we noticed a little man sat on a log quite near us. He looked like a very small (maybe only two feet tall) man of middle years, with a biggish nose and chin, a little beard and a peculiar hat. The hat was like a skullcap with a fat edging around it. He was sitting with his feet on the ground, his backside on the log, sort of stooped over, smoking a rollup. He had his head bent down at first, but after a little while [he] looked one way then the other. He didn’t look at us. I remember my brother and I exchanging glances. Honestly, the little man gave us a fright, and we both slowly backed up, trying to ignore him, and headed off quickly for his bike and cleared off home. We discussed the little man on a few occasions, both agreeing he didn’t seem happy my brother and I were there. I was about twenty at the time, my brother eighteen or nineteen in the late 1990s.’ ‘A little bony tiny man appeared – we didn’t see him arrive – near where we were sat, wearing odd clothes.’ Fairies are ‘entities of a place’.