Tess Ravenhill writes the wild with a naturalist's exactness and a poet's awe — the long solitude, the patient grammar of weather, the river that is better company than most people. Quiet and reverent, her prose lets nature stand as both character and judge, the thing that heals only by first testing. She writes from a cabin she keeps nine months a year.
Quiet, reverent, exact. The wild rendered with naturalist's precision and a poet's awe. Solitude and weather, the slow patience of survival, nature as character and judge.
Preoccupations
solitude · the indifference and grace of nature · self-reliance · the wild that heals and tests
In conversation with
Peter Heller, Annie Proulx, Cormac McCarthy
A line
"The river had been her only neighbor for nine months, and it was, she had to admit, better company than the one who left."
Tellwyn
