Williams is an especially confounding writer.

Her voice is very assured, which, however, contains the seeds of alienation and annoyance. This assurance stems from privilege, money, and an intact family. She can talk about democracy as much as she likes (and she does, especially in later works), but she is at the higher end of the social spectrum. Democracy (or any system) usually works well for such people.

Moreover, she tries too hard to extract some fundamental truth from her prose, which often leads to a sense of artificiality. Interwoven with this tendency is perhaps the most irritating aspect of her work - what can only be described as degeneration into "crystal gazing prose," or abstract, highly pretentious, spiritual drivel. Much of her dialogue seems untrue, as do several moments in the narrative (for example, when she sticks a middle finger in the face of the hicks).

From a mechanical point of view, her constant use of passive verb construction slows down the text. On the other hand, and this is why she is so confounding, there are moments of sublimity, truth, and truly outstanding writing that almost make the reading experience worthwhile. She skillfully manipulates thematic elements throughout, balancing the concepts of "isolation" and "solitude" in a dialectical dance. "Solitude" appears to be the goal, synonymous with "refuge," an acceptance of life's rhythms (including death). And her use of the lake level is quietly effective: the story begins and ends at the same level, a subtle way of achieving a kind of closure.

Overall, Williams' writing is a complex and often frustrating mix of strengths and weaknesses.

The author's words paint a vivid and poignant picture.

We follow the ebb and flow of the Great Salt Lake, a cyclic natural phenomenon that has a profound impact on the lives around it. The disappearance of the birds as their marshes flood is a heart-wrenching sight.

Meanwhile, the author's mother is bravely struggling with breast cancer. She says, "You learn to relinquish. It's not that I am giving up. I am just going with it." Her words teach the author about the art of letting go.

The author also reflects on the different perspectives on time and relationships between America and Kenya. In America, time is money, while in Kenya, time is relationship.

Slowly, painfully, the author discovers that her refuge lies in her capacity to love. She realizes that if she can learn to love death, she can find refuge in change.

The Fremont people, who flourished on the edges of the Great Salt Lake, had a different approach to life and change. They followed the expanding and receding shorelines, accommodating change instead of being immobilized by it.

The author also shares her thoughts on death, which she now sees as earthy and full of life. She believes that the landscapes we know and return to become places of solace, and that the Holy Ghost is female, a spirit that seeps into our hearts and directs us.

Finally, a Zimbabwean friend's words, "You Americans, why is death always such a surprise to you? Don't you understand the dance and the struggle are the same?" leave the author with much to ponder.

Overall, the author's writing is a beautiful and thought-provoking exploration of life, death, and the natural world.

This book was listed as "suggested reading" for a nature-writing class that I took in college.

The book delves into the long and agonizing journey of the author's mother's battle with cancer and her eventual slow death. In the 1950s in Utah, certain parts of the state were unfortunately utilized for nuclear testing. As a consequence, a significant number of people contracted cancer.

It is indeed a profoundly sad book, yet it presents a stark and unvarnished reality. Terry Tempest Williams, the author, is a renowned naturalist. Interestingly, I had the opportunity to meet her when I resided in Utah. She is truly a lovely person.

This story is a realistic portrayal of an American family's tragedy, highlighting how our environment can have a detrimental impact on us and emphasizing what we must do in response. It serves as a poignant reminder of the consequences of our actions and the importance of taking responsibility for the well-being of both ourselves and the environment.

The best thing I have read so far is tough and beautiful.

It leaves a deep impression on me. The words seem to jump off the page, vividly描绘出 a world full of challenges and yet also filled with moments of great beauty.

It makes me think about the various aspects of life, how we often face difficulties that test our strength and character, but at the same time, there are those precious and beautiful moments that make it all worthwhile.

This piece of writing has truly touched my heart and soul, and I will surely remember it for a long time.

I can't wait to explore more of such wonderful works that can inspire and move me in ways I never thought possible.

It makes me believe that there is always something amazing waiting to be discovered in the world of literature.

This was a truly lovely read. It is a book that demands to be slowly savored, allowing the reader to fully immerse in its pages.

The author skillfully weaves together two powerful stories. One is about the birds of Utah, which are threatened by the rising waters of the Great Salt Lake. The other is the story of her mother's cancer. Both of these events are having a profound impact on the course of her life.

The flooding of the GSL is destroying the habitat of the birds and changing the landscape that she grew up around. Meanwhile, her family is rallying around her mother, who is facing a series of battles - chemo, radiation, surgery, and all the attendant complications.

Each chapter is titled with a different species of bird, which adds an interesting touch. I found myself wishing that the book had included a photo or drawing of that bird, as some of them are unfamiliar to me, living here in the Southeast.

The author does a great job of giving the reader a feel for this area of Utah - the austere beauty of the wilderness, a brief history of the Mormon settlers, and some of the political wrangling over the GSL. However, her mother's story occupies much of this book and it becomes truly transcendent as both she and her mother come to grips with the disease and finally her own mortality.

There are some quotes in the book that are worth remembering. For example, "words don't count when words don't matter." And "I know that it is not the trials we are given but how we react to these trials that matter." Also, "A person with cancer dies in increments, and a part of you slowly dies with them." These quotes really capture the essence of the book and the emotions that the author is trying to convey.

Overall, this is a beautifully written book that is both poignant and thought-provoking. It is a must-read for anyone who loves nature, family, and the human spirit.

It's that I don't even have completely clear how it is that I arrived at Terry Tempest Williams. But I love it, a lot, very, very much.

This is the second one I'm reading. I was thinking of Robert Macfarlane (love, great love) and I read it in this book, or I saw its roots, in the associations, in his writing with love, in relating to, in the connection.

Very beautiful. Family, roots, territory, lineage, community.

The narration of the death of her mother in relation to the disappearance of the refuge, when in reality it is a territory that is simply in a cycle that seems incompatible with the structures that have been built on it, is brilliant. Death with life, the cycle, the interconnections. It makes you think deeply about the complex relationships between nature, human life, and the passage of time. The way Williams weaves these elements together creates a powerful and moving narrative that lingers in the mind long after you've finished reading. Her words have the ability to touch the heart and open our eyes to the beauty and fragility of the world around us.

I’ve never read a book like this one before. It’s truly unique and has left a lasting impression on me. I’ll probably be thinking about it for a long time.

The author, Terry Tempest Williams, juxtaposes the rising and flooding of the Great Salt Lake in the 80s with her mother’s (and her whole family’s) long battle with cancer. This parallel creates a powerful and emotional narrative that explores themes of loss, change, and hope.

I’m not typically a big fan of cancer books. I often find them to be contrived and hollow, lacking in authenticity. But this one is different. Williams is honest and real about the range of feelings and experiences by all involved. She shows the drama of the emotions through memories and the behavior of birds, adding a unique and beautiful layer to the story.

As a child who has experienced losing a parent from cancer over a several years span, I can relate to the mix of ups and downs, good days and bad days, and the memories that come back at unexpected times. Williams’ portrayal of these experiences felt very genuine to me, and it brought back many of my own memories.

I also loved the comparison of Williams’ beloved bird refuge being underwater and the birds needing to find a new place to go, to her thoughts about her mother and other women being a refuge to her all her life and now her needing to find a new place to go. This metaphor was so well done and added another layer of depth to the story.

The setting of the book is also a major亮点. I have grown up and lived my whole life along the Wasatch Front, and the geographical landscape that Williams describes is home to me. I know it so well, and it was fascinating to read about it in the context of the book. The religious and cultural setting was also familiar to me, although I admit that the author and I see some things differently.

I loved the Utah history in this book, as well as the thoughts about strong women standing up and reclaiming the earth and finding balance. The idea of death as a rebirth and a journey was also very powerful and thought-provoking.

Overall, this book was a must read for me. It was a beautiful and emotional exploration of life, death, and everything in between. I don’t know if it will resonate with everyone in the same way, but I would highly recommend it to those who are looking for a unique and thought-provoking read. I’ll definitely be reading more Terry Tempest Williams books in the future.

My copy of this book is truly a sight to behold, covered from cover to cover with my own personal notes and underlined passages.

Williams has an uncanny ability to use her profound intimacy with nature as a lens through which she adeptly describes her equally deep connections with people, the complex web of relationships, her unwavering core beliefs, and the meanderings of life.

I found myself identifying strongly with many of her vivid images and poignant experiences. It wasn't because I necessarily share her intense love of birds, but rather because I, too, possess a poet's heart that constantly thinks in parallels and comparisons.

Reading about someone else engaging in the same thought processes was not only validating but also liberating for me. Additionally, having witnessed cancer and death up-close with Jon's mom, those chapters in the book rang extremely true and hit close to home.

I wholeheartedly agree with the beautiful belief that death can indeed be a very sacred time.

However, I must admit that I would have given this book a full 5 stars if not for the disappointing ending. The true strength of the book lies in its objectivity. At its simple and moving core, it artfully avoids casting overt moral judgments.

Regrettably, this is not the case in the final chapters. Whether I agree with Williams' political stance or not, I was rather offended by her dogmatic approach. She would have served her case much better had she been more subtle and nuanced in her presentation.

Nevertheless, despite this flaw, the book still holds much value and offers many profound insights.

Beautiful, soulful meditation on death, nature and the natural cycles of life.

It's not as tight or elegant as TTW's later books as she was growing into herself as a writer still. However, you can already see the sublime genius she became at work here.

The author's exploration of these profound themes is both moving and thought-provoking. Through her words, we are invited to reflect on the inevitability of death and the beauty that can be found in the natural world.

Although this may not be her most polished work, it serves as a testament to her early talent and potential. As we read, we can sense the seeds of greatness that would later blossom in her subsequent books.

Overall, this meditation offers a unique and valuable perspective on life and death, and is well worth the read for anyone interested in exploring these themes.

Wow, wow, wow.

I just finished this book a moment ago. I held it tightly to my chest, closed my eyes, and listened intently to the sound of my heart beating against it.

This is not just an ordinary book. It is a profound exploration of grief, a celebration of love, a meditation on birds, a lesson in acceptance, and an affirmation of the willingness to embrace life, even in the face of pain.

The words within its pages seem to dance and weave a tapestry of emotions that touch the very core of our being.

"Pain prepares us for peace." This simple yet powerful statement reverberates through the book, serving as a guiding light in the midst of life's trials and tribulations.

It reminds us that even in the darkest of times, there is hope, and that through pain, we can find a deeper understanding of ourselves and the world around us.

This book has truly touched my soul and left an indelible mark on my heart. I will carry its wisdom and beauty with me always.

Nature in its wild form courts our souls. It has a way of captivating us and making us feel a connection that is deeper than words can describe.

I pray to the birds.

I pray to them because I firmly believe that they will carry the messages of my heart up to the heavens. I offer my prayers to them because I have faith in their very existence. The way their songs begin and end each day is like a beautiful invocation and blessing of the earth. I pray to the birds because they make me think about the things that I love, rather than the things that I fear. And at the end of my prayers, they teach me the art of listening.

They show me that sometimes, in the stillness and the quiet, there are lessons to be learned and beauty to be discovered. The birds are like messengers of the natural world, and through them, I am able to find a sense of peace and connection within myself.

This is a truly beautiful and incredibly powerful memoir that offers profound observations about birds, the magnificent Great Salt Lake, the Mormons, and the harsh reality of cancer.

At first glance, these elements might seem like a random and disparate combination. However, the author skillfully ties everything together in a seamless and masterful way.

What emerges is a very coherent and engaging story that delves deep into the meaning of what it is like for her to live in that particular part of the world as someone who has a genuine and deep-seated care for nature.

Through her vivid descriptions and personal reflections, we are able to gain a unique and intimate perspective on her life and experiences, and to understand the complex web of relationships and emotions that bind her to this place and its people.

This memoir is a testament to the power of nature to heal, inspire, and connect us, even in the face of life's greatest challenges.