On fog-shrouded barrier island or deep in winter woods, eighteen essays describe the wild, outer half of Cape Cod. Robert Finch is a vivid witness to our participation, whether as individuals or as communities, in the mysteries of natural experience. As he explains: “One of the primary reasons this place yields so much to me so consistently is that I have invested so much of myself into it, physically, mentally, and emotionally . . . a thousand simple, repeated, physical acts have given this landscape a texture for me so that even its most casual aspect is filled, not with slick charm or abstract nostalgia, but with living, tactile memory.” In these essays, Finch demonstrates once again his profound willingness to ask essential questions. These essays recognize our need for both the human and the nonhuman in our lives; they probe the ambiguities in our response to the terror and beauty of the natural world and the love and aggression we struggle with in our associations with one another. Robert Finch’s remarkable prose offers high entertainment, but also gives us new sympathies for and understanding of both nature and ourselves.
