In a green field far, far away from the usual festival combination of Hunter wellies and denim shorts lies the imaginative world of photographer Venetia Dearden. Her series of portraits taken over six years at Glastonbury became a best-selling and much loved book that spoke to the heart of the event, while showcasing the people who make up its lifeblood.

‘I draw a lot of inspiration from the West Country,’ Dearden explains, ‘because it’s somewhere that I know and love. And I really think with photography, if you love it, that comes through, and it opens doors for you.’

Literally, in fact, given that for her other major project, Somerset Stories, Five Penny Dreams Dearden spent time living with members of the local community in and around the area in which she grew up. From studying their daily routine, to softening them up for sittings by mucking in and helping – for one, she spent a day planting onions with her subjects before even removing the lens cap on her camera.

‘I loved the challenge of earning that trust, actually,’ she says. ‘It was about families on the margins of rural society. Living and working and trying to bring up their kids in a way they believed in, with food they grow themselves or live animals, just trying to pursue their dreams.’

The shots are unique in their blend of clear-eyed reportage with modern pastoral portraiture, exploring latterday village, agricultural and nomadic existence. Dearden, whose background lies in overseas work for various NGOs, often in ravaged or disenfranchised communities, feels a weight of social responsibility with her images, be they of the inhabitants of England’s rolling hills or of those who live among sub-Saharan landscapes.

‘I think the Glasto project was really about making people realise we’re all the same, but also fabulously different. In a festival setting, it’s okay that you smile and stop and talk to a stranger, but in the streets, you might not. It takes the festival for people to really be open-hearted, but I’d love to inspire people to be like that all the time.’

She hopes her West Country series might encourage people to slow down and reflect (‘I should take my own advice!’ she laughs), with their lingering not-quite-nostalgic  focus on subjects such as Frank Nashe, the 90-year-old bachelor who has lived his entire life in the same house and never left the village. There is a quality of pace in Dearden’s work, one that is neither patronising nor overly persuasive, but which simply elucidates each personality by establishing their surroundings quietly and thoughtfully.

As a young photographer pitching to agencies, Dearden remembers setting off on far-flung shoots in Burma and the like. It wasn’t until an editor told her of the overlooked import of capturing what is familiar too that she began working closer to home. Since then, she has taken every opportunity to return to the region that captured her heart in childhood. From Mulberry and Temperley fashion campaigns to a new film project set in the community where her parents still live. And of course there’s always Glastonbury, a rich seam discovered during a summer spent working the Temperley family’s cider tent.

‘I don’t want to just give these people cider, I thought,’ she smiles. ‘I want to find out why they’ve come all this way with their four kids, and are happy to be in thigh-high mud for four days and pay about a grand for the privilege. I wanted to get closer.’

Venetia Dearden’s muses might be ordinary people, but they’re a means of exploring the eternal greenwood, and a very English sort of modern mythology.