Years ago when I first came to this place, a neighbor expressed astonishment that we would build a cottage on "the fairies' hill."
I smiled condescendingly. "We don't believe in fairies," I said.
Sometime later I was explaining to the same neighbor how glaciers had shaped the mountain during the ice age.
"'Tis easier to believe in fairies under the hill than ice on top," she said, with just a hint of triumph.