Episode Transcript
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There's a face you've seenbefore, even if you don't remember
it. Carved into old stone.Hidden in the corners of cathedrals,
draped in ivy. Eyes wide,mouth open. Sometimes in silence,
sometimes in warning.Sprouting leaves and vines like words
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unspoken. He doesn't speak,but he's been watching us for centuries.
This is the Green Man. One ofthe oldest, most mysterious symbols
in European folklore. Neithersaint nor devil. Not quite a God,
not quite a ghost. He'ssomething else. A memory, a guardian.
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A whisper of the wild, tuckedinto the walls of civilization. I'm
Jodie. And this is bite sizedfolklore. Today, we follow the tangled
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roots of the Green man throughancient forests, across moss covered
stone. And deep in the heartof a legend that never truly disappeared.
You step inside a medievalchurch in England. Stone walls, stained
glass, Hushed echoes. You lookup. From the shadows of a carved
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arch, a face stares back. It'shuman, mostly. But his eyes are wild.
His beard is ivy. His hair oakleaves, or maybe even holly. From
his mouth, vines twist andcurl like speech, frozen in time.
This is the Green Man. But whois he? And why is his face tucked
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into the sacred stonework ofChristian churches? Let's start with
the name. The Green man issurprisingly modern. The term only
entered popular use in the1930s. This was thanks to a folklorist
named Lady Raglan, who wroteabout the leafy face motifs found
in British churches. Beforethat, these figures didn't have a
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common name, but there werehundreds of them, maybe even thousands.
They appear across Europe, inGermany, France, and even Italy.
Faces carved in wood or stone.Sometimes stern, sometimes serene,
sometimes screaming. Alwayssurrounded by leaves. In some, the
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foliage sprouts from eyes,ears, and even nostrils. It's not
always peaceful. Some of thesegreen men look like they're being
consumed by nature itself.This image, man and plant entwined.
It feels old. Older thanstone, older than churches. Because
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before he was a churchornament, the Green man may have
been something else entirely.A memory, a survival, a whisper to
the ancient gods and forestspirits. In Celtic traditions, green
was the color of the otherworld. Beautiful but dangerous. In
classical myth, gods offertility and growth and often wore
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ivy crowns and roamed wildwoods. Think Dionysus. Think Pan.
Did those beliefs vanish whenChristianity took root? Or did they
simply adapt? The Green manmay be one of those quiet survivors,
a bridge between twoworldviews. Pagan and Christian.
Nature and civilization, Lifeand death. Because here's the thing.
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The Green man isn't just asymbol of life. He's a symbol of
cycles, growth, both decay andrebirth. He is spring bursting from
winter's grip. He is theleaves that fall and return again.
And nowhere is his spirit feltmore keenly than in Scotland. Though
he is often associated withEnglish churches, the Green man is
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carved into dozens of Scottishsites, from Roslyn Chapel to Melrose
Abbey. Roslyn alone holds over100 green men, some serene, some
grotesque, all of themblooming from stone like memories.
Celtic tradition held ontightly in Scotland. Pagan practices
lingered beneath Christianlayers. And the Green man, half wild,
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half wise, fit right in anature spirit hidden in holy places.
Even today, in some Highlandtales, he walks among the trees,
quiet, watching, guarding whatremains. But not all stories of the
Green Men are quiet. Some arebold, questing and epic. There's
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an old Welsh gypsy folktale,less known but vivid, called the
Green man of no Man's Land.Let me tell it to you now. Long ago,
there was a young gamblernamed Jack. Clever but bold and too
confident by half. Oneevening, he found himself in a strange
tavern facing a man in a greencloak. They played cards through
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the night, and Jack losteverything he had. The man in the
green cloak grinned and said,you've gambled away your fortune.
Now wager your life. Find mycastle in no Man's Land within a
year and a day, or I'll take.Take your head. And just like that,
he vanished. Jack wandered theworld seeking answers. He crossed
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stormy seas and high hillsuntil he reached an old woman's cottage.
She called upon the birds ofthe world, but none knew where the
Green Man's castle was. Onlythe eagle had seen it. So Jack climbed
onto the eagle's back and itflew through storms and clouds until
he reached a distant lakewhere three. Three white birds bathed.
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Jack stole a feathered cloakfrom one, and she transformed into
a woman, the Green Man'sdaughter. She agreed to help him.
She carried him across thelake to the Green Man's castle. While
there, Jack faced impossibletasks. He had to clean stables that
filled faster than he couldempty them. He had to chop an entire
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forest before noon. He had tothatch a barn using knock nothing
but feathers, climb a glassmountain and bring back a golden
egg. Each time, the GreenMan's daughter helped him, secretly
risking her father's wrath. Inthe end, the Green man made Jack
choose his daughter from threeSwan Maidens. Jack chose correctly,
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and the Green man, impressedby his cleverness and persistence,
let him live and even gave himthe daughter's hand in marriage.
But some say Jack neverreturned from no man's land at all.
Some say he still walks theregreen eyed, cloaked in leaves. It's
a powerful story because inthis version the green man isn't
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just a face in the wall. He'sa ruler, a tester, a guardian of
mysteries. Whether a forestspirit, a carved God or a mythic
trickster, the green manendures because he speaks to something.
We all feel that nature isalive, that the world watches, that
deep in the woods somethingolder than us remembers what we've
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forgotten. So next time yousee a vine crawling over brick or
a face in the bark of a tree,don't look away too fast. He might
be watching. Thank you forlistening to bite sized folklore.
If this story rooted itself inyour mind, share it with someone
you walk in the woods with.And remember, when the forest is
quiet, it doesn't mean it'sempty. I'm Jodie and I'll see you
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next time.