This season, we’ve been inspired by the folklore of our home, uncovering a cast of colourful characters. Read on for our Cornish tales retold.
From Piskies to mermaids, lost lovers and mysterious creatures, Cornwall whispers her tales to those who walk her paths, her wild landscape woven with a glittering magic you might just catch in the corner of your eye. Our Seasalt Words Book Club draws on the poetic tales and storytelling sprit of our home, and we never feel more like gathering together to spin a yarn than at this time of year, when the nights drawn in and the fire beckons.
You’ll find these storytelling influences in our collection too, with prints drawing on the work of artist Breon O’Casey. His simplified forms of birds and foxes evoke a playful and naïve feel. The palette is rich and deep yet colourful, with winter reds, hosta greens, olive, French blue and pops of bright pink.
To celebrate the season and folklore than inspired our designs, we’ve retold some of our favourite Cornish stories for you to enjoy…
The White Hare of Looe
Down to the harbour bounds the ghostly white hare, a sign to the faithless and fishers: beware…
In Looe Harbour, a beautiful maid who had her heart broken by an unfaithful sailor now takes the form of a ghostly white hare. On moonlit evenings, she trips through the legs of fickle lovers, haunting their footsteps to avenge anyone betrayed in romance. Sometimes, she flickers and skips through the ropes of the moored boats – a sure sign that a dangerous storm is on its way.
The Cuckoo of Towednack
From the ashes of winter in a burst of warm light, the cuckoo of spring will awake and take flight.
It was the longest winter the village of Towednack had ever seen. Cold, dark night followed grey, rainy day. On yet another mizzling morning, an old man piled his hearth high and crowned it with the large stump of a tree he’d found. As the fire blazed, the stump burst open and a cuckoo flew out, filling his home with the sounds of spring. To this day, a yearly celebration called the Cuckoo Feast is held in Towednack.
The Huer & The Herring
You’ll see nary a sign of fish in the waves, till you coax the wild Bucca from his deep, dark caves…
The Huer of a Newlyn stayed out on the cliffs in all weathers, for it was her job to alert the fishermen to any signs that the herring had come. If winter crept in and no fish were to be seen, the villagers would wait ‘till dark to sneak down to the beach. There on the sand they would leave a precious offering to the shadowy Sea Bucca, in the hope he’d chase the shoals in from the sea.
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