The Chime Child is one of the most enchanting books I know. It begins with the rustle of autumn deep in the Somerset countryside where villagers, mindful of the old ways, have set up a corn dolly for Harvest Festival.
Finding Green Men in medieval churches was a game for myself and my young charge; others have made it an all-engrossing spiritual quest. Deep things have been said about the head in the leaves: he is a trickster, a prophet, the guardian and revealer of mysteries. Well, maybe.
On Michaelmas Day the Devil takes possession of the blackberries and to eat one after that day would risk… well, something on the spectrum between a bad taste and instant death.
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