An eclectic group of East Anglian Pagans working amongst the Tumuli of Suffolk
Follow the path to this most Easterly Shire, a land of low horizons where the Sun first rises, Kingdom of the Wuffingas, where marshes and heaths of the Sandlings subtly slip toward the North Sea shingle shores. Where, long ago, strangers came cruising up the coast in their 'yolls' and settled to fish the glittering shoals of 'silver darlings' and to farm the thin soils, leaving their wood-henges and tumuli. Descended from this population of laconic sailormen is a notoriously hostile and unfriendly breed of farmers and fishermen, smugglers and cunning-folk with an accent as miry as the mud creeks and brittle as the flinty shards of East-coast sunshine. A resourceful, suspicious, pragmatic and superstitious race, hidden in scattered, pastel-coloured cottages and farms.
Icceni, Celt, Roman, Dane, Saxon and Angle have all helped to mould 'Selig' Suffolk. Many a grey-towered Church marks a hill or well, sacred long before Fursa, Felix, Edmund or Botolph made a foundation.
Sea, river and fen form natural defences to this realm and Dragons fought to keep the boundaries - but where the sun sets, ditches and ramparts of great height were a bar to invasion across the Ickneild Way. Together The Devil's Dyke, Fleam Dyke, The Black Ditches and the Bran Ditch kept out unwanted strangers.
The flowing tides sweep into a coastline of soft clays, sand and shingle, revealing a network of hidden creeks, skirted by ancient trackways, 'drifts' and 'lokes'. The bitter east-wind scourges the low, sandy cliffs.
By day, under the vast sky, birch woods, gorse, heather and flower-bespangled meadows reach down towards the narrow beaches where amber, carnelian and flint holey-stones can be found.
Sheep graze behind the sea walls; here is a land 'Solitary beyond wont' enchanted by nuances of light and colour intermingled.
At night, in the eerie half-light, Jack O'Lantern and Old Shuck guard the marshy fastness and lonely beaches - for here, was not a Merman once pulled from the nets and a King of the Wuffingas lay undisturbed in his burial ship for thirteen hundred years.
Carlford Hundred is one of the 21 Hundreds of the County of Suffolk and its many tumuli mark it as an ancient necropolis of the Bronze Age, where once an Altar was raised to Corotiacus - Lord of the Throwers.