On the ceiling in the church at the centre of my village in Devon there is a wooden boss that depicts a face – human-like, with vegetation spilling from his mouth and curling around his cheeks. He is not serene. He seems like he has been interrupted. He is the Green Man – a symbol of rebirth and a connection to the natural world, often found in architecture and folklore. He has been there since medieval craftspeople set him in place, watching the village go about its patterns of birth and death and ordinary days. There is something in his expression that seems insistent; he seems to say pay ...

 

There are approximately 541 more words in this article.

To read the rest of this article, please buy this issue, or join the Resurgence Trust. As a member you will receive access to the complete archive of magazines from May 1966.

Buy Issue Join Us

If you are already a member, please Sign in