The Elf Cup The Elf-Cup or Fayerie Cup is a circle of stones which encloses an area anywhere from one foot to about three feet in diameter. The stones can be small one-inch wide stones, or a thick ring of pebbles of all sizes, all the way up to fist-sized (or even larger) rocks, in proportion to the size of the cup. The stones enclosing the area should all touch and every effort should be made to make the ring of rocks or stones as tightly knit, stable, and durable as possible. As much as you can, use locally found stones. Simply bringing in massive quantities of foreign stones to make an Elf Cup, unless you truly have no other choice, is far from ideal. It is aesthetically best, but not necessary, that the stones stand out a bit from the earth they will be sitting upon; white or pale stones upon a green or dark brown ground, for instance. White stones, owing to the association of whiteness with the Unseen world, are always appropriate. But any stones can be used. The standard size mentioned here can be greatly expanded upon, if the local environment you have to work with is amenable. An Elf Cup could be a very large area of ground, 5-7 feet in diameter or more, ringed by very large stones, even a raised portion of ground that is very circular or mostly circular, with a stony border. But having a cup that size would almost always require a person to find a place already formed in such a way, and adopting its use as an Elf Cup. The Elf-Cup is to be created in a safe outdoors area where it will not be disturbed. It cannot be in a place that is frequented by many people, or by strangers who may gaze upon it with ease or pass closely to it. It cannot be in a place that is frequently subjected to loud noises or outdoors work. A private corner in a backyard is good, on a private property somewhere, or in a hidden spot in some wood, forest, or meadow where people are not likely to go- such places are best. The Elf Cup is always well positioned at the foot of an old tree, and naturally, the best might be Oaks, Hawthorns, Yews, Ash, and other trees naturally, the best might be Oaks, Hawthorns, Yews, Ash, and other trees associated in the folk tradition with Fayerie entities and otherworldly contact. But local spiritual realities and forces must always be first in any consideration, and any tree of good age and obvious power can make a very good shelter for the Elf Cup. Small cairns of stone or erect wooden posts can (over time) grow up around the Elf Cup, if they are raised to honor the powers in the Unseen for some significant reason. They only make the area stronger. The peace, cleanliness, and dignity of the area must always be protected and preserved. Human-generated trash or pollution must never be allowed to accumulate there or get near it. Though it is not necessary, when I have established an Elf Cup in the past, I often made a beeswax tablet and carved a message upon it, stating that this ground was Given Ground, a place intended to be a sacred interaction point between myself, my kin, and the local spiritual indwellers to the area, along with the Great Powers below. The message always includes an indication of our gratitude for all that the sacred forces do and have done for us. The first offering given to that cup was the tablet being buried at its center, followed by a good quantity of whole cream. This is the purpose of the Elf Cup: an offering point, a place for giving food and drink offerings and gifts to the Underworld or the Unseen and to the local spirit-persons present in the area. Once the stones are in place, and the first offering has been made (one can use a Breaching charm before giving offerings, especially the first time they are given; I try to utilize at least the spoken aspect of a breaching each time I give to the cup, but it isn't strictly necessary after the first time) the ground that the cup encloses is literally and truly Fayerie ground. One might bury small gifts that aren't food, too- or, in other instances, bury petitions especially meant for the forces Unseen. I personally dislike the idea of disturbing the ground inside too much; if you must bury something inside the cup of that nature, only disturb the ground with a piece of antler or a sharp piece of wood- never anything metal. I do not think it proper to put fires inside of the Elf Cup, but there's no reason why a small fire-pit couldn't be built near one, if you really intended on spending a lot of time outside near the cup. The inside of the cup being given ground means that the Unseen has, from the time of the cup's creation until its final disappearance, full reign over that small bit of earth with regards to what grows there, and the disposition of all things given there. After the given ground is established, you cannot alter what grows there- no "weeding" it. If perishable food is laid on that ground, it must decay away of its own accord, or vanish otherwise without your help. Non-perishable things put inside of it, like eggshells, can be removed after a few days, and leaves that fall into it can be removed as you desire, but otherwise, nothing given to the cup can be touched thereafter. You don't have to clear the nothing given to the cup can be touched thereafter. You don't have to clear the ground inside at the time of the Elf Cup's creation, but you can if you want, leaving just bare earth. But forever after that, you cannot alter it. If animals disturb the ring of stones, that can be repaired. But what animals do with the offerings or the cup is outside of your control and belongs to another world altogether. The Elf-Cup can be a place to carry and discard offerings that were given to other beings in the course of sorcerous works done elsewhere. The remains of Alimentum Feasts can be carried there and given, naturally without having to do a Breaching charm again. When I lived on an old farm in New Hampshire, I quickly established an ElfCup on the big wooded hill behind the house. A few months later, as I was bringing an offering of whole cream to the cup, I noticed the remains of a previous offering I had made a few days before (of pork roast, potatoes, and carrots) were still busily being carried away by another family of the little people- Some local ants and other insects were taking advantage of my cult-site and carting off the food. So, I poured the cream around the inside edges of the cup, as not to drown them. Folklore makes a powerful connection between the chthonic powers and ants and insects, even to the point of (more than once) making communities of ants the salvation factor for a protagonist's quest: their aid is the ultimate reason he or she "wins" the object of their quest within the magical world of those tales. But beyond that, these communities of smaller folk are crucial parts of the enormous and infinite chain of life that is the stage, the reality, upon which my "religion" (for lack of a better word) appears and flourishes. So, they couldn't be harmed. Their lives are precious, too. And despite our cultural condescension to them, they are powerful beings. What happens within the boundaries of the Fayerie Cup cannot be interfered with. Whatever grows from inside it can't be touched. It belongs to the Otherness. As mentioned before, I do remove dead leaves or other leaf-fall, but only that. If snow covers the cup, and you really do wish to continue using it through a winter, it would be fine to remove the snow in and around it, but in general, I do not use them much in winter. The cup's ground will over time become a true Otherworld, a spirit-ring, a spirit-circle, a spirit-world entrance of kinds with its own miniature ecology. The scales of "large" and "small" fall away from the eyes of people who engage these subtle matters often enough. To the little creatures within the cup's boundaries, it is an immense world, a valley of wonders and nourishment. To Those Below, the cup is a place that has been made "thin" by all that has been done there in their Good Names. The light of this world filters down through the thinness of the cup-ground, appearing as a small star in the through the thinness of the cup-ground, appearing as a small star in the cavernous dark sky of Those Below. What I say and whisper and chant over it, and the offerings I give, will filter down to Them. Not only the act of creating the boundary and the "given ground", but a certain desire on the part of we above is needed to create the breach, this small pinhole in the Hedge. That desire is what creates and empowers this ongoing devotion, and it must. The Elf Cup is a point where the land opens and power passes to and fro, up and down. Here is where peace is made between We Above and Them Below. The life we have is the life we share. This is good and right; we got all this life from Them to begin with. It perhaps should go without saying, but at no time should a human person stand inside the cup, or enter it, or walk over it. The Powers may decide that this person was given, and that outcome could be dark. The same should go for domesticated pets, but it's very difficult to control them, especially when one isn't around. Someone's cat or dog entering the ring of the cup won't carry with it the same kind of intrusive spirit nor make the same kind of dangerous statement as a human being crossing this boundary. If you have land that you live on permanently, you should have an Elf Cup established on it somewhere. If you are going to live for a long while in a place where one can be established, you should certainly make one. When the time comes for you to leave, there is no special thing you must do with the cup. Make a final offering there, tell the powers that you will likely be coming to that particular cup no more, thank them for all that they have done, and leave the cup where it is. To attempt to dismantle it would be disrespectful; let Nature and other powers handle it from that point.
