Late Migrations

This book made my heart both soar and ache.

I follow Renkl’s wonderful writing in the New York Times about the nature in her own neighborhood (and occasionally Southern politics), and Late Migrations is a collection of essays in which she ties together the loss of family with the losses of beloved wildlife.

She wrote such a gorgeous last paragraph about living with grief. “And that’s how I learned the world would go on. An irreplaceable life had winked out in an instant, but outside my window the world was flaring up in celebration. Someone was hearing, ‘It’s benign.’ Someone… show more.

When Renkl’s book arrived on my doorstep a few years ago, I was lost in the rush of the day. But just one glance at the first page and I stopped all else, found a chair, and settled in with this book of woven fragments. The solace and danger of the natural world braid, in Renkl’s hands, with personal losses, worry, and wonder. Images, metaphors, and motifs repeat and repeat again—enlarging the story with each appearance. Illustrations by Renkl’s brother complete the story, making this book endlessly re-readable and finally reassuring.

I adored this book by NYT columnist, Margaret Renkl, who comes from a colorful southern family and interweaves her close observations of nature with glimpses of her own autobiography. I see some links between it and my own book project—snapshots of a self at various points in life. She uses her birthplace and nature as her gauge, mirror, and touchstone, whereas I use my authors. I hope I’m not flattering myself too much by feeling that our enterprise is similar. So many quotes moved me to tears. I see that her true subject is responding to grief, but in a… show more.