@hookland.bsky.social
Phoenix Guide to Strange England: #Hookland. Run by David Southwell
#Hauntology Re-wilding #Folklore #FolkHorror #Psychogeography #LandscapePunk Re-enchantment Is Resistance
#Hauntology Re-wilding #Folklore #FolkHorror #Psychogeography #LandscapePunk Re-enchantment Is Resistance
@tomsbrown.bsky.social She falls into her bog bed. Peat-pillowed. Moss-blanketed. Cradled by its brown waters. A protection of humic acids, tannins. Heather honey on the tongue of her bitter dreams.
November 10, 2025 at 5:58 PM
@tomsbrown.bsky.social She falls into her bog bed. Peat-pillowed. Moss-blanketed. Cradled by its brown waters. A protection of humic acids, tannins. Heather honey on the tongue of her bitter dreams.
I think we sometimes love certain places as they reflect what we feel, but can't say aloud. There's an old Hookland phrase – to be tulled – meaning to be caught between two worlds and at home in neither of them. I feel that a lot and I'm sure my favourite places do as well. – Martha Twilling #VOH
November 10, 2025 at 5:01 PM
I think we sometimes love certain places as they reflect what we feel, but can't say aloud. There's an old Hookland phrase – to be tulled – meaning to be caught between two worlds and at home in neither of them. I feel that a lot and I'm sure my favourite places do as well. – Martha Twilling #VOH
People talk about us Children of The Hum as 'weirdo hippies, 'ragged walkers' blindly following something they couldn't hear, couldn't understand. They never understood that we lived in a landscape of wonder. They saw pylons, we saw sublime structures. – Trippy Pete, ex-Pylon Person #VOH
November 10, 2025 at 2:41 PM
People talk about us Children of The Hum as 'weirdo hippies, 'ragged walkers' blindly following something they couldn't hear, couldn't understand. They never understood that we lived in a landscape of wonder. They saw pylons, we saw sublime structures. – Trippy Pete, ex-Pylon Person #VOH
Goodnight from The Ghost Bear’s Bowl pub, where there’s much talk about what the oil extraction company up at Trotton Grove might disturb. Goodnight from Ali Weaver, wishing her mother wouldn’t tell the children stories about the Hairy Pike at bedtime. Goodnight from Hookland.
November 9, 2025 at 10:03 PM
Goodnight from The Ghost Bear’s Bowl pub, where there’s much talk about what the oil extraction company up at Trotton Grove might disturb. Goodnight from Ali Weaver, wishing her mother wouldn’t tell the children stories about the Hairy Pike at bedtime. Goodnight from Hookland.
November’s early darkness enfolds us. The smell of applewood fires and rot is a constant companion at twilight. We hurry between home and evensong, home and pub. Ghosts crowd the lanes, our folklore becomes filled with tales of cold teeth. Winter begins to growl. - #CLNolan
November 9, 2025 at 5:33 PM
November’s early darkness enfolds us. The smell of applewood fires and rot is a constant companion at twilight. We hurry between home and evensong, home and pub. Ghosts crowd the lanes, our folklore becomes filled with tales of cold teeth. Winter begins to growl. - #CLNolan
Here’s Sarah of the break-spell
Here’s cousin Jem of the curse
Give me Bloody Emma who twists the knife and makes it worse
- Trad. Hookland witch rhyme
Here’s cousin Jem of the curse
Give me Bloody Emma who twists the knife and makes it worse
- Trad. Hookland witch rhyme
November 9, 2025 at 11:25 AM
Here’s Sarah of the break-spell
Here’s cousin Jem of the curse
Give me Bloody Emma who twists the knife and makes it worse
- Trad. Hookland witch rhyme
Here’s cousin Jem of the curse
Give me Bloody Emma who twists the knife and makes it worse
- Trad. Hookland witch rhyme
A gentle reminder that this is one of those generational good books which will still being read in 20 years time.
A very occasional reminder that ‘Pan: the Great God’s Modern Return,’ published by Reaktion Books, is available in paperback through your favorite bookseller.
November 9, 2025 at 10:14 AM
A gentle reminder that this is one of those generational good books which will still being read in 20 years time.
Goodnight from Wiverstone, where the village green firework display has provoked the ire of rudely wakened Moss Maidens. Goodnight from the Egyptian Bingo Hall, where the clinking of lucky charms grows louder as the evening’s grand prize is about to be called. Goodnight from Hookland.
November 8, 2025 at 9:58 PM
Goodnight from Wiverstone, where the village green firework display has provoked the ire of rudely wakened Moss Maidens. Goodnight from the Egyptian Bingo Hall, where the clinking of lucky charms grows louder as the evening’s grand prize is about to be called. Goodnight from Hookland.
Hookland is closed for the rest of the day due to hospital admission. Don’t worry if there is no goodnight. Don't attempt to talk to the ghosts on Brighthaven Pier till it re-opens. The only thing likely to be on @cultauthor.bsky.social is pictures of wheelchairs and corridors.
November 8, 2025 at 12:24 PM
Hookland is closed for the rest of the day due to hospital admission. Don’t worry if there is no goodnight. Don't attempt to talk to the ghosts on Brighthaven Pier till it re-opens. The only thing likely to be on @cultauthor.bsky.social is pictures of wheelchairs and corridors.
Goodnight from Lilly Weyburn, too afraid to find out what’s making moaning sounds in the apple cellar. Goodnight from Kitty Lansbury, wondering why the Victorian sampler hanging in her Nanna’s bedroom appears to have been copied from a grimoire. Goodnight from Hookland.
November 7, 2025 at 10:12 PM
Goodnight from Lilly Weyburn, too afraid to find out what’s making moaning sounds in the apple cellar. Goodnight from Kitty Lansbury, wondering why the Victorian sampler hanging in her Nanna’s bedroom appears to have been copied from a grimoire. Goodnight from Hookland.
In November hares come to wood edge. Most say this is for cover, for food. Yet more than one old countryman has told me they come to pay tribute to the wood itself, to have one last dance with the Moss Maidens before their cold sleeping. At twilight they feed and mutter omens. - #CLNolan
November 7, 2025 at 7:11 PM
In November hares come to wood edge. Most say this is for cover, for food. Yet more than one old countryman has told me they come to pay tribute to the wood itself, to have one last dance with the Moss Maidens before their cold sleeping. At twilight they feed and mutter omens. - #CLNolan
Even at the unfashionable end of Ashcourt Necropolis, there are houses of the dead that try to lord it over their neighbours. For all the grand statements made by their stones, they still whisper lonely sorrows. Inequality wins few friends. – #CLNolan
November 7, 2025 at 3:18 PM
Even at the unfashionable end of Ashcourt Necropolis, there are houses of the dead that try to lord it over their neighbours. For all the grand statements made by their stones, they still whisper lonely sorrows. Inequality wins few friends. – #CLNolan
When everything tide-touched becomes property of the King-Under-the-Sea, high tide is a crucial matter. Even more so when it comes to the county's causeway islands. No-one wants to get trapped on Os or Far Gore. No-one wants to spend even an extra hour on Strood. – #MattAdams
November 7, 2025 at 12:08 PM
When everything tide-touched becomes property of the King-Under-the-Sea, high tide is a crucial matter. Even more so when it comes to the county's causeway islands. No-one wants to get trapped on Os or Far Gore. No-one wants to spend even an extra hour on Strood. – #MattAdams
#VOH stands for Voices of Hookland, because you can’t tell the truths of anywhere and exclude voices that aren’t the middle class academics, authors and professionals the weird fiction genre relies too heavily upon. Dairy men, shelf stackers, factory workers all sing the strange truths of place.
November 7, 2025 at 9:17 AM
#VOH stands for Voices of Hookland, because you can’t tell the truths of anywhere and exclude voices that aren’t the middle class academics, authors and professionals the weird fiction genre relies too heavily upon. Dairy men, shelf stackers, factory workers all sing the strange truths of place.
Goodnight from Rob Eley, sure he can see rough and not entirely human shapes on Salt Tear Marsh. Goodnight from Weychester University Library, where the sound of pages being turned has not stopped even though no living reader is left on the premises. Goodnight from Hookland.
November 6, 2025 at 10:09 PM
Goodnight from Rob Eley, sure he can see rough and not entirely human shapes on Salt Tear Marsh. Goodnight from Weychester University Library, where the sound of pages being turned has not stopped even though no living reader is left on the premises. Goodnight from Hookland.
You may want to do this for when Hookland is rude …
Wondering why no one likes your posts anymore, even among your friends? It's because @jay.bsky.team and team have decided to hide a huge amount of content from all of our feeds by default.
Here's how to turn it off.
First go to the hamburger menu in the upper left corner
Here's how to turn it off.
First go to the hamburger menu in the upper left corner
November 6, 2025 at 8:42 PM
You may want to do this for when Hookland is rude …
The wooden bestiaries of England's churches offer a library of carved folklore. Here a giant wyrm or ghost bear to keep you company as you pray. There a manticore, flown from far Persia, to growl at tedious homilies. – John Betjeman, The English Alphabet , BBC Two, 1972 #Folklore
November 6, 2025 at 6:49 PM
The wooden bestiaries of England's churches offer a library of carved folklore. Here a giant wyrm or ghost bear to keep you company as you pray. There a manticore, flown from far Persia, to growl at tedious homilies. – John Betjeman, The English Alphabet , BBC Two, 1972 #Folklore
The year limped on with a malign heart, never quite letting go of its fever. Even as it moved towards the inevitably of ice and long hours of darkness, the village sweated out visions. Evening chatter in both pubs was filled with augury. Ghosts gathered. - #CLNolan, The Growling of the Land, 1912
November 6, 2025 at 4:09 PM
The year limped on with a malign heart, never quite letting go of its fever. Even as it moved towards the inevitably of ice and long hours of darkness, the village sweated out visions. Evening chatter in both pubs was filled with augury. Ghosts gathered. - #CLNolan, The Growling of the Land, 1912
I like properties where spirits have thrown their ectoplasmic weight around to the point the owners have fled. More so, I adore a property so phantom-plagued no estate agent can find a willing renter. Ghosts that defy the property market are worth studying. – #CJosiffe #Ghosts
November 6, 2025 at 12:18 PM
Reposted
Rain and mist envelop #Hookland this morning. Field, river and mound emerge for brief moments, then fade back to obscurity. @hookland.bsky.social
November 6, 2025 at 10:11 AM
Rain and mist envelop #Hookland this morning. Field, river and mound emerge for brief moments, then fade back to obscurity. @hookland.bsky.social
Reposted
Finally have some time to start reading this! Absolute delight so far, feeling the lack of a keyboard I can try to plonk the tunes out with. If I use the clarinet I will be a semitone out on everything though xD
Just put 30 of these little acts of magic in envelopes to post tomorrow.
November 5, 2025 at 5:26 PM
Finally have some time to start reading this! Absolute delight so far, feeling the lack of a keyboard I can try to plonk the tunes out with. If I use the clarinet I will be a semitone out on everything though xD
Children leave for school early on November 6th. They want extra time to collect the sticks of fallen rockets. They sit in class comparing numbers, passing around the ones with strongest smell of gunpowder, inhaling as if each whiff contained the memory of its display. - Joanna Vickers #VOH
November 6, 2025 at 8:32 AM
Children leave for school early on November 6th. They want extra time to collect the sticks of fallen rockets. They sit in class comparing numbers, passing around the ones with strongest smell of gunpowder, inhaling as if each whiff contained the memory of its display. - Joanna Vickers #VOH
Goodnight from Gosmer, where the villagers have chosen to burn an effigy of Thatcher the Iron Witch instead of Guy Fawkes. Goodnight from David Appleyard, walking a night filled with bonefire incense and the heady gunpowder smell of exploded fireworks. Goodnight from Hookland.
November 5, 2025 at 9:57 PM
Goodnight from Gosmer, where the villagers have chosen to burn an effigy of Thatcher the Iron Witch instead of Guy Fawkes. Goodnight from David Appleyard, walking a night filled with bonefire incense and the heady gunpowder smell of exploded fireworks. Goodnight from Hookland.
For the witch, there are times when the river becomes a fluid scrying, a constant flow of omens. It's tutelary spirit whispers wisdom in her ears, its magics ripple across her psychic skin. She becomes one with its shaping song. – #EmilyCBanting, 1982 #WitchSky
November 5, 2025 at 4:23 PM
For the witch, there are times when the river becomes a fluid scrying, a constant flow of omens. It's tutelary spirit whispers wisdom in her ears, its magics ripple across her psychic skin. She becomes one with its shaping song. – #EmilyCBanting, 1982 #WitchSky
Those talking openly about witchery often focus on the active aspects – possibly because they like telling people what to do. There's a neglect of passive enchantments, those parts of witchery where we listen, where we commune with the land. – #EmilyCBanting, 1982 #WitchSky
November 5, 2025 at 12:13 PM
Those talking openly about witchery often focus on the active aspects – possibly because they like telling people what to do. There's a neglect of passive enchantments, those parts of witchery where we listen, where we commune with the land. – #EmilyCBanting, 1982 #WitchSky