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Book 13 of 2022: Where the Bluebird Sings to the Lemonade Springs by Wallace StegnerThis was Stegner's final book, originally published in 1992, just a year before his passing. It is a remarkable collection of essays, neatly divided into three parts: Personal (autobiographical), Habitat (environmental), and Witnesses (about other Western writers and their works). The title is derived from a lyric in The Big Rock Candy Mountains, which is also the title of his semi-autobiographical novel about his parents and his childhood spent traversing the West.I found this collection to be an immensely satisfying read, especially for those interested in "living and writing in the West". Stegner's migrant childhood had a profound impact on his sense of place in the arid West and its conservation and preservation. Having lived in the arid lands beyond the 100th meridian for over 40 years, these essays truly nourished my red-rock stained soul. As Stegner so eloquently put it, the Western wilderness is the "geography of hope".His "Letter, Much Too Late" is a deeply moving message to his mother, written 50 years after her death. It stands as a monument to the strength of his mom and her unwavering devotion to her sons, which enabled her to stay in a marriage with a deeply flawed individual. Stegner regrets not being able to express his love and admiration to her as a mature man. This essay touched me deeply, as I also miss my mom and wish she could have lived to see my wonderful children and the success Bill and I have achieved in our academic pursuits and professional careers. It served as a powerful reminder of the advice I often give to others: live your life with intention and keep your accounts short. Say "I love you" and "I'm sorry" more often. Live and love deeply, for we never know how long the people we love will be in our lives.In the Habitat essays, "Thoughts on a Dry Land" was particularly informative about the arid West that I love and have called home for most of my adult life. One quote that really struck me was: "You have to get over the color green; you have to quit associating beauty with gardens and lawns; you have to get used to an inhuman scale; you have to understand geological time" (p. 54).His critiques and observations on other Western writers have also expanded my reading list. I now plan to read MacLean's A River Runs Through It and Steinbeck's Grapes of Wrath again. I would highly recommend this book to anyone who wants to get a deep taste of Stegner's writing and the West that he held so dear.