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The first time I was introduced to stories about the Witte Wieven I was eleven years old. I remember watching a street performance of a group of women who were dancing in medieval dresses while golden ribbons tied to their wrists flew around them. My aunt was standing next to me. She’s always eager to tell you more about the history of a gargoyle on one of those buildings which you pass every day but never really notice the details of. She knows many Flemish, Dutch and French folktales and this was her chance to tell me about the Witte Wieven. According to her they are the spirits of wise women who appear as mist above fields or hills. My eleven-year-old self would have forgotten all about this the moment we passed by an ice-cream shop, but there was something special about that moment. The image of women who flew through the air as mist was one that bewitched me.