Ellen Meloy (1946–2004)

I love Melohy's writing and perspective on the natural world and it saddens me to know her voice is no longer with us. Her reflections on the relationship of humans with the natural world and with other creatures is beautifully protrayed, although the relationship is not always beautiful.

This book is a purple prose mess of meandering thoughts and introspection, tossed with random unsupported claims.

I really did love that book. It was amazing, poetical and a portrait of live. I went to the desert the first time this summer and fell in love. And then I found this book and it told all the things I thought. It was the first story I marked quotes in.

"[...] not preachy holy, but instinct holy [...]" I so love this quote, it is now on the inside of my folder. The melancholy and hopefulness in this book is so beautiful, brining you to tears.

I picked this up thinking it would be a micro-history of turquoise, and found that it was worlds more than that. A blend of nature lit and memoir and meditation, all distilled through a fierce love of one particular place on this big beautiful earth. I think it should only be read outdoors, or at least with a view toward outdoors, in a place that you love.