I know Trevor Herriot as a person concerned about songbirds on the prairies through Grass, Sky, Song and as a person concerned about the transition of grassland to farmland in River in a Dry Land but in this book he takes all those concerns and weaves a personal philosophy. It is a personal journal that he opens up to us. I am in awe of his writing ability and his depth of introspection.

Herriot walked 40 miles from Regina to the Qu'Appelle Valley over three days in September of some recent year. As he walked he observed his surroundings and mused about his place in the world. He was 52, a husband, a father, a technical writer to make money and an observer of the birds, plants and wildlife of the prairies for the good of his soul. Each chapter is separated from the next by a vignette about other people who have written about walking. Herriot used this time to try to discover how to be an adult male as opposed to an adolescent driven by lust and desire. I don't think I have ever been privy to such a window into the mind of a male adult because most males I know don't talk about their innermost thoughts. (Women, on the other hand, frequently discuss these intimate details.) I imagine a lot of men think about these things but lack the vocabulary or the desire to speak them out loud. I know I will be trying to figure out what my significant other thinks about even more than I already do but at least, after reading this book, I have some discussion points.

There are many passages in this book that I would love to quote but I think I will restrict myself to just one. Herriot heard a sandhill crane while he was walking on the second day and that caused him to discuss the crane's mating behaviour and how long sandhills have existed in North America (since the Miocene age).
If I had to guess what it is about cranes that has allowed them to rise above the ebb and flow of this land's many passing forms, and say what most signifies their tenacity and endurance as a species, I would look to their annual renewal of mating bonds within the presence of the larger community, to their attentive child-rearing, and to their fidelity to one another and to the places where they nest, stage, and winter. Choosing one and forbearing others, the bond of two cranes is a psalm written anew by the wind in river mud each spring. If we could listen what would we hear? That community life protects the nuptial bond, shared well-being, and child-rearing? That life is served best when you are faithful to the partner and place you choose, when you guard the sanctity of your courtship, mating, and family, and dance now and then in the larger circle of your tribe?

Great stuff. Herriot has a blog that I read faithfully to keep me going between his books. ( )