Long before maps were drawn on paper, the land was mapped through story. A hill was not a hill — it was the place where the giant fell, where the saint blessed the spring, where the queen of the hidden folk held court. Each name was a coordinate in a sacred geography.
This is folklore as cartography: a way of knowing the world that holds memory across centuries. Where the Roman road still cuts the parish, where the hawthorn tree must not be cut, where the river takes one life every seven years. The stories outlive the storytellers.