As the nights grow to their longest and frost silvers the hedgerows, Suffolk’s marshes slip into their most mysterious mood. Winter here has always been a time for storytelling, when families huddled around fires, the outside world muffled by snow or mist. And among Suffolk’s winter tales, one of the eeriest and least known is that of the Lantern Men – ghostly lights said to haunt the river marshes, glimmering just out of reach.

The legend tells that on the marshes of the River Waveney, especially around Syleham, strange lights appear on winter nights. They hover low above the reeds, drifting and dancing as if held by unseen hands. Some describe them as pale blue, others as golden like lantern flame. They bob enticingly, moving ahead of you if you follow. Yet the tale comes with a chilling warning: follow the lights too far, and you may be lured into deep dykes or treacherous bogs, never to return.

Early writers on East Anglian folklore noted that these were not mere fairy tales. The natural phenomena of marsh gas may explain them – but for locals, the Lantern Men were something darker, something supernatural.

One detail that makes Suffolk’s Lantern Men distinct from the more widely known will-o’-the-wisp is the belief that they could call or whistle. In some stories, if you whistled at night across the marshes, the Lantern Man would whistle back – and woe betide you if you tried to answer. The voice would draw you further from safety, until the reeds swallowed you up.

Villagers treated the lights with respect. Children were warned never to chase them. Adults returning home late would avert their eyes, quickening their steps if a glow appeared out on the frosted fen.

The Lantern Men belong to winter. Picture a December evening in Suffolk: the air sharp with frost, moonlight glazed across frozen pools, mist drifting over fields. Reeds rattle in the cold breeze, and every sound carries in the stillness. Then – a glimmer. Just beyond the path, a small light bobs as if someone were carrying a lantern through the darkness. Your instinct is to follow, to see who it is. But as you step closer, the light slides away, always just beyond your reach.

It is easy to see why the legend became tied to long, cold nights near Christmas, when the boundary between safety and danger seemed thin, and the comfort of a hearth felt more precious than ever.

Many of these tales came from the banks of the River Waveney.(Image: Getty)

In past centuries, these tales were shared in the very season we now think of as Christmassy. Before television and fairy lights, families passed long evenings by firelight telling stories that mixed fear with wonder. The Lantern Men fit this tradition perfectly: a reminder of the dangers outside, but also of the warmth and safety within.

Even now, there is something oddly festive in the thought of those ghost lights. They echo the flicker of candles in cottage windows, or lanterns swinging from a villager’s hand on the way to midnight mass. Perhaps, in their way, they remind us to cherish the glow of home all the more.

For folklore lovers like me, the Lantern Men are a gift from Suffolk’s marshland past – a story born of place and season. The Waveney valley, with its mist, reed beds and winding paths, offers the perfect stage for something otherworldly. And while science may explain away the lights, the legend still clings like frost on hedges.

So, this winter, if you find yourself walking near Syleham or along the Waveney, and a strange glow stirs in the corner of your eye, remember the old warnings. Don’t follow, don’t answer the whistle. Instead, quicken your step back to the glow of home. And once safe, share the story over mulled wine, as countless Suffolk families did before you.

These Lantern Men are more than just ghost lights – they are part of the county’s winter soul, where mystery and magic shimmer just beyond the reach of ordinary life.