From Chapter 15 of “An Ogham Wood”:
They came to a clearing, and there arose a grassy hillock, not very high, maybe a hundred feet. No trees grew upon the hill, nothing save green grass, except at its summit where a single hawthorn of preternatural size sprouted from the earth. A thousand stars glittered in its leafy boughs, some fluttering round about it like fireflies, some alight upon its branches, some moving purposefully up and down the trunk. Around the tree great luminous toadstools grew, and within the faerie ring a plethora of eerily-lit figures danced. Some were tall and sticklike, and might have been made of twigs. Others were short and stout as tree stumps, and seemed to bear crowns of leaves for hair. Others seemed some melding of animal and man, burly figures upon goat hooves, lithe males with horns of deer, svelte women with wings of swans. Some were nude and wild, others were clothed in a motley assortment of garments, tanned skins and plush furs, pastel-hued caterpillar silks and rough, plain homespun. Some appeared to wear the bark of trees. A trio of faeries that appeared like nothing other than precociously shapely young girls were dressed in gowns of flower petals. To the side of the faerie ring another trio, as motley as the dancers within the ring, played instruments. One sawed a fiddle, another’s fingers cantered wildly over a bellows-blown pipe chanter, and the third beat a booming bodhran.