We will be nearly finished, I think, when we stop understanding the old pull toward green things and living things, toward dirt and rain and heat and what they spawn.
I read Goodbye to a River when I was 41. I was born in the Nueces Canyon between Barksdale and Camp Wood. So I know Texas rivers.
When I finished the book I was really heartbroken. It read to me like a man saying goodbye to his youth, in a sense. At 37 or 41 a man notices he isn't young any more. Not old, either. But not young.
And that's what left me heartbroken. I had only just come home 9 months before from a trip backpacking around the world for a year. So I grieved.
But Goodbye to a River is a special book and holds an almost sacred place in my heart.
I read Goodbye to a River when I was 41. I was born in the Nueces Canyon between Barksdale and Camp Wood. So I know Texas rivers.
When I finished the book I was really heartbroken. It read to me like a man saying goodbye to his youth, in a sense. At 37 or 41 a man notices he isn't young any more. Not old, either. But not young.
And that's what left me heartbroken. I had only just come home 9 months before from a trip backpacking around the world for a year. So I grieved.
But Goodbye to a River is a special book and holds an almost sacred place in my heart.
Thanks for the reminder and a great review/story.
I too read Goodbye to a River in my mature years and felt much the same as you. Thank you for your kind words.
You’re quite welcome.