May Eve felt beautifully chosen for Zakia Sewell’s visit to The Bookery. The shop once again full for another wonderful evening of storytelling. Dominic opened the evening by wishing everyone a happy May Eve, a fitting threshold moment before an exploration of folklore, myth, seasonal customs and belonging. We were so delighted to host Zakia, especially in the middle of her hectic schedule as she currently hosts the BBC Radio 6 Music breakfast show at weekends, and explained that the conversation was being recorded for Mark Norman’s Folklore Podcast, allowing the ideas from the night to be enjoyed beyond our walls.

Our good friend Mark Norman was, once again, a generous and inspiring chair, bringing curiosity and his enviable depth of knowledge to the conversation. Zakia was, as one audience member later put it during the Q&A, exceptionally eloquent: articulate, thoughtful, charming and open, speaking with affectionate for her love of the folklore that she discovered in her quest for Finding Albion. It made for the kind of evening that left us all energised, and it was no surprise that by the end of the night we had sold every copy of Finding Albion in the shop, each one signed and dedicated by Zakia.

Early on, Mark asked what first drew Zakia towards British traditions and folklore, particularly given her predominantly urban upbringing. Her answer took us to concerts her father had taken her to see by Pentangle, a band who stretched and reshaped folk music, threading it through jazz and blues. Far from dusty tradition, this was folk as something living and evolving, and it lit the spark for Zakia’s lifelong interest in storytelling, understanding paganism and the richness of seasonal customs.

The timing could not have been more apt. From discussions of the spring equinox and May Day traditions, the conversation moved through the turning of the seasons, towards Samhain and the winter solstice, reflecting on the balance of light and dark. Zakia spoke movingly about how the book is shaped by travel and encounter, and described her first experience of the spring equinox at Glastonbury Tor. The image she painted of spiritual seekers, druids and the quietly lost gathering at 4am in the morning, relieved at the promise of returning light, was vivid and oddly tender, and felt like a perfect place for her journey to begin.

There was space, too, to consider why folklore seems to be enjoying renewed attention. Zakia was careful to say that it never truly disappeared, but that interest waxes and wanes, often answering a deeper need for connection, place and meaning. She spoke about the growth of paganism, and how following the wheel of the year gives people a shared rhythm that cuts across background and belief. Identity, both personal and collective, surfaced repeatedly, with Zakia reflecting on how struck she was by the visibility of tradition during visits to her grandparents in Wales, and how those symbols help anchor belonging.

Mark widened the lens further, touching on Victorian and Edwardian folklore revivals, from Cecil Sharp to Mary Neal, and the continuing legacy of those movements. The presence in the shop of an original New Esperance Morris dancing costume, richly embroidered and loaned by the Folklore Library and Archive, grounded this history physically and beautifully. The conversation moved to Claudia Jones and the origins of the famous Notting Hill Carnival, exploring how folklore also lives within migration, resistance and cultural exchange, and reminding us that traditions are rarely singular or static.

As the evening drew to a close, both speakers gently challenged the idea of folklore as merely eccentric or quaint. What emerged instead was something layered, complex and quietly hopeful. Questions from the audience deepened rather than diluted the discussion, and the applause that followed felt genuinely earned. Afterwards, the bookshop buzzed as people queued to talk with Zakia and have their books signed, reluctant to let the night end. Thank you to all our customers helped make this such a special evening.