Book 14 for 2025: “About Grace”, Anthony Doerr


This is one of the most heart wrenching books I have ever read. As a child, the main character, David Winkler, discovers he possesses the ability of premonition via dreams that come true. Only his mother understands him; unfortunately she dies while he is still young, leaving him with father who is only physically there. He becomes an hydrologist, specializing in the structure of snowflakes, leading a rather lonely life as a weatherman in Alaska. While at the grocery store, he meets a woman. He knows what she is going to do before she does it. Eventually, they develop a relationship. The remainder of the novel details the consequences of their relationship and their having a child, Grace. David dreams that he will not be able to save Grace from flood waters, his wife thinks he is crazy, and then to avoid what he perceives will be Grace’s fate if he stays, he disappears. Eventually, he arrives hungry and destitute on a Caribbean island where he is taken in by a kind family who have escaped imprisonment in Chili during the military dictatorship there. He agonizes over whether his running away saved Grace and is unable to find out what happened to her. Eventually he saves up enough money to search even though he has no idea where she might be or how she will react of he finds her alive. Will her mother forgive him, will Grace if he finds her? He is driven to find out no matter the consequences.

This novel’s main themes include love, longing, forgiveness, the meaning of friendship, and the human search for grace.

Note: I have now read everything published by Anthony Doerr. His works contain beautiful prose and detailed descriptions. One of the most impressive things about his work is the amount of research required to write in such great detail about so many subjects, e.g. structure of snow flakes, the anatomy of different types of shells, the history of the city now called Istanbul and its ancient neighborhoods.

Autumn


dramatic weather changes

one day cold, next one almost hot

late blooms, gayfeather, groundswell,

native grasses blowing in the wind

owls hooting, robins on the patio

praying mantis, walking sticks

working on their last hunts,

other insects singing night songs

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Dear Monarch Butterfly


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Saturday I discovered your chrysalis underneath the top of a disintegrating cable spool by the red and green barn.  At first I remained uncertain about you.  Were you really a monarch?

Then I thought, “This is too late; you won’t survive,”

I checked the weather. There is hope.  No freeze until late Thursday night.

By Monday evening your chrysalis had turned a dark green transparency; I could see hints of your wings inside.

When I looked Tuesday after horse feeding, you were out, unmoving, wings folded, your chrysalis a hollow shell.

I checked you twice last evening.  Still by your chrysalis, opening and closing your wings.

Becoming really worried, knowing a cold front was coming, I puzzled what to do, keep you inside the barn, leave barn doors open, what?

This morning you had moved to the edge of the spool top.  Today’s wind and warmth might inspire you to take your journey south; I could only hope, placed you where you could fly away easily.

When I fed the horses at five today, you were gone.

Relieved, I wish you a safe journey to Michoacan.

 

 

 

 

 

Walking Among the Flowers


After feeding the horses, completing chores, a late afternoon walk to look for the last of the wild flowers took my fancy.  Here in the canyon country of the Panhandle of Texas, the majority of wildflowers are three colors:  yellow, white, purple.

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Butterflies feeding in the gay feather.

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At first I thought this might be bitterweed but now, not sure.

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Although this one and the last one may resemble each other, they are different.

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Looked up, the sun decided to shine–at my place four inches of rain in the last week and more than seven inches ahead of normal.

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Black foot daisies and prairie zinnias bloom from early spring almost until frost.

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Athena among the flowers.

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Prickly pear can grow almost anywhere.

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I almost missed this one hidden among the grass.