For instance last year we came off the beaten track in an attempt to find a short-cut to Boscastle and the road to Tintagel. Suddenly we were in a different world. The light became softer; the vegetation in the hedgerows othereworldly. Everything was tinged with a glow.
Suddenly, for no apparent reason, I asked my husband to stop the car. We were beside a small gully from which sprang bare branched trees covered in what appeared to be a form of lichen. I suppose it was a banal enough scene but ‘By The Way’ resulted. For this is what I’d seen … Could this be Lugh Lamhfada, Lugh of the Long hand, the senior of the Celtic gods and patron of all arts and crafts who was eventually demoted by the coming of Christianity to Lugh-chromain or stooping Lugh and then anglicised into leprechaun?