Paganistan: Notes from the Secret Commonwealth
In Which One Midwest Man-in-Black Confers, Converses & Otherwise Hob-Nobs with his Fellow Hob-Men (& -Women) Concerning the Sundry Ways of the Famed but Ill-Starred Tribe of Witches.
Best Pagan Pub in Town
They say there are thirteen—thirteen, count 'em—Green Men down at Merlin's Rest.
Can you find them all?
How Merlin's Rest became the pagan pub in town, I'm not sure.
(Because it's British, and pagans tend toward the Celtophilic? Because you can kilt up there, and any self-respecting pagan guy will happily don his nine yards at the drop of an athame? Because it's adjacent to the pagan neighborhood?)
For whatever reason, it's been the local pagan pub for years, which here in Paganistan is saying something. Go there, and you'll pretty much always see other pagans.
Actually, pagans being pagans, you'll probably hear us first.
For a long time, the local Druids met-up there weekly. (In fact, modern Druidry got its start at a public house in London, in 1781. Draw your own conclusions.) Whether or not they still gather there post-covid, I don't know.
Heathens, witches, Druids: Merlin's serves them all.
(No, not that Merlin: this is merlin the falcon.)
If pubs have secret Craft names, Merlin's must be The Green Man.
Do you have a pagan pub in your town?
If not, I'd recommend it.
There's something to be said for neutral territory.
Well, I'm off to have a pint with a heathen buddy. Guess where?
They do say there's a whole coven of Green Men down at Merlin's Rest.
Maybe some day I'll find them all.
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