Oh this was a beautifully written book about the East Anglian Fens. Edward Storey (a poet as well as prose writer) is able to conjure forth the haunting atmosphere and the quietude of the Fens in winter. Apart from the noise of the jostling birds at the region's wetlands, there is a hush over the landscape, often perpetuated by silent snow, eerie fog or moody drizzle. I could literally imagine myself into these surroundings and felt as if I were travelling around the region with Storey, looking at the flatlands and listening to voices of the past.
I'm so glad I've bought a few books by this author, all about the Fens. I think he channels the spirit of the place perfectly. Now to check through his select bibliography for hopefully more treats.
I've read a lot about the Fens and recently saw Edward Storey mentioned as a chronicler of the Fens and its history and people. This specific title concentrates specifically one season: the winter. He begins his journey at Welney where the wetlands see thousands of winter visitors flying in. Through the journey we meet older residents of the Fens who remeber stories of skating on the frozen fields and rivers, the poverty and necessisty to work all hours, the inevitable floods and their effect. Many villages mentioned are relatively local and known to me and hearing tales about familiar names is alwys interesting. Storey intersperses his own poetry in approapriate places - and it's good. A lovely atmospheric book which makes me appreciate how far we have progressed in managing flood waters and making rich soil yield the best produce.