Treehouse Dreams
Imagine being a hermit in this contemporary world, even a partial hermit.
The Hermit's Handbook - being the telling of someone who flourishes in finding a little patch of woods in which to dwell in his hand built tree house, smack dab in the middle of a bustling woodland perched upon a beaver pond. Our main character Stuart Tarry isn't a total recluse, he's a working hermit, but the prose coming from his prospect is exceptional and should be celebrated. He is an astute observer of nature, "How many times did I pass those anonymous withered stalks sticking up from the stream before I realized that they were the same cardinal flowers that had arrested me last summer, the day I had spied the pure golden pollen spilling onto their crimson petals? And how long had I stood that afternoon, sauntering across the pond as fat snow flakes dropped before me, not driven by the wind but falling freely, each of a million flakes distinct against the black hemlocks on the far side, noting how the nearer flakes appeared to drop faster than the farthest, each flake between them dropping at the precise rate it should in relation to those filling behind and in front, the whole vista a flawless moving tapestry- how long had I stood, hypnotized, before I realized I was witnessing a rare illustration of the web of time and distance and gravity as it operates on this planet, not merely witnessing but recognizing the exact same network operating within myself, the pure recognition of a planet's inner workings by one of its creations." and a wonderful haiku poet "melting ice barely holds my thin shadow".
The Hermit's Handbook has humor, pathos, nature and philosophical observations. This creative non-fiction is not to be missed!