Every parish in Hookland seems to have its share of rogues, Faery-bastards, cunning folk and tipplers crazed by apple brandy. Some even have a self-proclaimed Master of Witches or Friend of the Devil. It is not an easy place to be clergyman. - Rev. Æthelstan Morley

Goodnight from Ashcourt’s Egyptian Cinema, remembering the Rocker riot of 1958 as the sound of flick-knives opening and brass knuckles thumping flesh and bone. Goodnight from the Sisters of the Apple, all lanterns and laughter heading into Mercury Woods. Goodnight from Hookland.

When we walk the wilded avenues of the dead, we are the trespassers. We are the ghosts. For these are places ceded to the Breathless Empire. This is the England of the Pale Crown, not the England of George V. – #CLNolan , 1933

The infants of the village are all adorned with charms, for the people here believe the young cannot protect themselves fully with faith and prayer. As the dangers from the moor are many, the charmsmith is kept at work. - Dr. Bron, 1638

It's that time of year when Moss Maiden representations start to be placed in shop and home windows. People argue whether this is done as warding or an invitation for a blessing. In the classroom, we refuse to take sides and use that weasel word - tradition. – Joanna Vickers #VOH

Derren Phillips What about you don’t try to demonstrate your sense of cleverness in public by spell-shaming a dyslexic?

If you hit a dear in Hookland, you risk the Lord of the Forest is pursuing you until your grave.

Goodnight from Helen Barnes, losing faith in the English talismans of politeness and tea as the pallid airforce UFO investigator refuses to take any hint to leave. Goodnight from Bill Hollowbrook, saying a rhyme to Pan Agreus for a bit of poaching luck. Goodnight from Hookland.

Most of the findable entrances to the network of tunnels under Fort Bilston only go on for a 100-yards before you hit a blast door. Of course this doesn't stop them being haunted by rumours of the wartime Satan Sheds. Tales of floating iron squids, living smoke. –  #MattAdams

Goodnight from Liz and Fran Chandler, peeking out the window to see Miss. Strickland walking her pet fox down the road. Goodnight from Phil Griston, laying a network of twine-activated booby traps in case the Wodewose comes to raid his garden shed again. Goodnight from Hookland.

To believe nostalgia as truth is a dangerous madness. There were no rainless summers of childhood. No cottage was ever cosy when under siege by the brutalities of rural poverty. The lie of happy England is it never had monsters, yet it was founded on giants’ blood. - #CLNolan

Linocut print inspired by a quote from Tom Rudd: 'There’s a group of hills on the eastern edge of Barrowcross they call the Pony Hills. Most reckon them haunted... by ghosts of vanished trees... Shades of bears, great worms and the ruffled fox.'
Hookland

The alleged home tree of the Wood Sprite Wrackful Thomas. His desired offerings are copper buttons, doll parts and tea cake. Those failing to appease him are said to not only subject to the most fearful curses, but root entrapment and the spitting of resin.

The paths at the common's edge flirt with woods. Entice with promise of a glimpse of lore. For who doesn't wish to see some feral folklore? Meet Wodewose, Moss Maiden or Ruffled Fox? The power of the wood is that it lets us encounter such stories. – #CLNolan #FolkloreThursday

Goodnight from Victoria Wharton, tapping iron nails into her shoes so as to burn any witch’s shadow she walks upon. Goodnight from the lock-in at The Caged Man pub, where they are voting on whether to let the village newcomers into their shaming secret. Goodnight from Hookland.

Weychaster Wax record – well-known for its role as nexus in the formation of the darkscape, punk and goth a movements in Hookland. It also became a record label and put out Hookland's first gothic compilation album – 'Wild, Beautiful and Utterly Damned'. #WorldGothDay

We don't talk enough about the manners of magic. The import of asking permission before harvesting hedge or meadow. The need to thank swan for its gift of feathers for our cloaked workings. An ill-mannered witch devalues her relationships. – #EmilyBanting , 1982 #WitchWednesday

Trees pull on their green gowns. Glades give flowering bounty. The spirits of place sing in the living temples of the witch. Sometimes part of our core magical relationship to the land is just being within it. – #EmilyBanting , 1982 #WitchWednesday

For #WorldGothDay , goth as permissive space from the A-Z of Hookland influences.

Goodnight from Curdpot Farm, where they're discussing once more whether to free their wartime captive from his decades long dwelling in the old slaughterhouse. Goodnight from Gill Gates, tying string to chalk and iron spike for the making of magic circle. Goodnight from Hookland.