In the rolling hills and misty valleys of Shropshire, where ancient folklore mingles with the rhythms of rural life, Mary Gladys Webb crafted some of the most evocative prose and poetry of the early twentieth century. Born on March 25, 1881, in the village of Leighton-under-the-Wrekin, and dying tragically young at forty-six on October 8, 1927, Webb compressed into her brief life an extraordinary literary legacy that…
“The past is only the present become invisible and mute; and because it is invisible and mute, its memoried glances and its murmurs are infinitely precious. We are tomorrow's past.”