Recently I revisited Cornwall, the county in the United Kingdom that honours King Arthur in both its anthem and on its flag. They claim that the black crow with a red bill has his spirit residing in it. Along the spine of Cornwall runs the A20, a four-lane highway that cuts the wild Bodmin Moor in half. When my taxi driver discovered I was interested in Merlin and King Arthur I listened to a reverent historian, who insisted on turning off his meter and showing me Dozmare Pond

We have a saying in English “you can’t see the wood for the trees.” It means that someone is so involved in the details of something that they can’t see what is important as a whole. But what happens when a trained Druid like Merlin walks across a forest floor, can he see the wood, or does he see the trees? Or does he experience the woods so differently from us that we no longer have the words or the rituals to experience it as he does? Merlin hears things, we don’t; he sees

Gryphons are Merlin’s preferred form of transport. It’s not that he does not have other options. He can mount horses from his stable, ride swans from his lake, or whistle up dolphins from across the waters. If he has to make a stunning display in the sky, he can always find a dragon who is happy to show off. But nothing compares to his gryphon. It is a timeless wonder of safe travel. It is a combination of the world’s most magnificent predators: the eagle and the lion. When h