Spring has arrived on Lundy.
I’ve written before about the huge array of daffodils on the island at Easter and how Lundy moves into spring. But it’s hard not to think about the creatures we associate with this season. On Lundy, bird migration has begun, the first lambs are born in the fields. Easter trails are in place and there is news of a Lundy Boggit.
On the mainland, people are preparing to give Easter eggs and chocolate bunnies. Here on Lundy, with only a few real bunnies and no chocolate eggs. It feels like something else is moving quietly through the fog on a Lundy Easter trail:. The island feels different in the fog., landmarks become silhouettes, the castle broods, the church softens and the lighthouse is half-hidden.
Enter the Lundy Boggit!
You might already know the Lundy Boggit. People say it descends from rock wallabies. These were introduced to the island by Martin Coles Harman in the 1920’s. Over time — shaped by weather, terrain, and isolation — it adapted.
The Lundy Field Society, describes how the Boggit has fully adapted to the east coast. Thriving among dense rhododendron, low bracken, rocky crags, bogs, and streams. It developed a fondness for wetter ground, often wallowing beside slow-moving water.
But at this time of year, there are whispers of something slightly different.
Not a new creature exactly — but a seasonal shift.
An Easter Boggit.
If you’re tracking an Easter trail on Lundy this weekend, you might find yourself slowing down without quite knowing why. Without the dense rhododendron you can scan the ground, you might notice textures, patterns, slight disturbances.
This isn’t a creature that leaves neatly wrapped eggs in baskets.
Instead, it leaves smaller, stranger traces.
A hollow in the grass where something has rested.
A cluster of stones that weren’t there before.
A path that seems to change just enough to make you pause.
Not hiding eggs, but hiding magic.
The Easter Boggit, it seems, prefers not to be found directly. Instead, it encourages a different kind of Easter trail — one that isn’t marked out, but felt.
So this Easter, while others might be searching for brightly coloured eggs, you might find yourself looking for something quieter.
If you don’t see it — that’s fine.
The Easter Boggit prefers it that way.
If you think you’ve spotted the Easter Boggit — you’re very welcome to share it. Not as proof, but as part of a growing, collective noticing of the island.
References
Cox, B., et al. (no date). Discovering Lundy. Lundy Field Society.
Holmes, G., et al. (2018). Fantastic beasts and why to conserve them. Oryx.
Ironside, R., and Massie, S. (2020). The folklore-centric gaze. Time and Mind.