“Ian Thompson is as deft at chronicling the cyclical sweep of time on a particular piece of earth as anyone I know. ... Like the land and people he observes, he sees little use for pretense, for finding deep meanings in things when an evening’s amber light on slickrock or a raven’s flight seem to possess meaning enough in themselves ... You will find the fascination of a scientist herein, the descriptive powers of a poet, the anglings toward truth of a man both inherently alert yet necessarily wary. These meditations on place – the region Ian Thompson knows so intimately yet discovers each week anew – are a pleasure, an artwork, a gift, an almanac of the heart.” – From the Foreward by Russell Martin
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