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The Great Wood: The Ancient Forest of Caledon
The Great Wood of Caledon - the historic native forest of Highland Scotland - has a reputation as potent and misleading as the wolves that ruled it. The popular image is of an impassable, sun-snuffing shroud, a Highlandswide jungle infested by wolf, lynx, bear, beaver, wild white cattle, wild boar, and wilder painted men. Jim Crumley shines a light into the darker corners of the Great Wood, to re-evaluate some of the questionable elements of its reputation, and to assess the possibilities of its partial resurrection into something like a national forest. The book threads a path among relict strongholds of native woodland, beginning with a soliloquy by the Fortingall Yew, the one tree in Scotland that can say of the hey-day of the Great Wood 5,000 years 'I was there.' The journey is enriched by vivid wildlife encounters, a passionate and poetic account that binds the slow dereliction of the past to an optimistic future.
182 pages, Kindle Edition
First published September 1, 2011
18 people are currently reading
175 people want to read
About the author
Jim Crumley
60 books51 followersJim Crumley is a Scottish nature writer with almost 20 books to his name, mostly on the landscape and wildlife of Scotland. He is renowned for his style - passionate, inspiring, visionary, sensitive, majestic - no work of his should be missed. He is also a columnist and presenter of radio programmes.
He has also received the accolade of '...the best nature writer now working in Great Britain...' from David Craig in the Los Angeles Times Book Review.
He has also received the accolade of '...the best nature writer now working in Great Britain...' from David Craig in the Los Angeles Times Book Review.
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Displaying 1 - 21 of 21 reviews
May 20, 2017
This is my first time ever reading 'nature writing' so I am giving this book 4 stars without any comparison. I really enjoyed this book and learning more about the Great Wood of Caledon, both in the past and what remains of it today. I liked the way he was critical of both what he was saying, and what other writers have said about the wood in the past.
I hadn't expected the book to include so much of the author's life, but I really liked his writing so his stories and experiences were very enjoyable to read about. I think I would have gotten more out of this book if I had been to more of the locations he mentioned, but I must admit that I was too lazy to google them all. I tabbed and annotated a lot of this book, so I know I'll definitely come back and reread sections in the future.
A great book for anyone interested in learning more, and challenging what they think they know, about the Great Wood of Caldon!
I hadn't expected the book to include so much of the author's life, but I really liked his writing so his stories and experiences were very enjoyable to read about. I think I would have gotten more out of this book if I had been to more of the locations he mentioned, but I must admit that I was too lazy to google them all. I tabbed and annotated a lot of this book, so I know I'll definitely come back and reread sections in the future.
A great book for anyone interested in learning more, and challenging what they think they know, about the Great Wood of Caldon!
March 21, 2022
Although Jim Crumley’s writing is not the most direct or even artful, his passion for his subject, his anger at botched ideas and inept management and most importantly his hopefulness make The Great Wood very appealing. The mythic or the real Great Wood of Caledon is his subject. As a non-Scot I was not very familiar with the topic, but so many of the things discussed are pertinent worldwide.
Historically, people have had all kinds of ideas about this place. It wasn’t always even one great wood. Until the end of the last great ice age the Highlands were covered in ice and there were no trees. And what is a native forest? Whatever enters with birds, animals, winds and people. Scots pine and rocks may have covered the area first but it wasn’t long before all kinds of trees entered. What about the idea of one great Caledonian forest? Crumley actually thinks there are four distinct areas that were never fully joined. Part of commonly accepted ideas oversell Victorian myth and the great dark, scary woods of the Roman soldiers who could have marched through but maybe just wanted to go home. There were enough literate people with the Romans who passed on tales of terrible wolves and impenetrable woods.
Crumley says that “From the first, trees have come and gone from the Great Wood, and always will.” That is with smart management and a little human help planting a diverse forest cover. He tells us that nature’s experimentation is to be trusted and biodiversity is a good thing if the Woods are to recover from depredations of monoculture tree plantations, pollution and climate change. Left alone forests often do well for themselves. Helping by planting diverse trees encourages healthy forests that have more life—animals, insects and happy humans.
Historically, people have had all kinds of ideas about this place. It wasn’t always even one great wood. Until the end of the last great ice age the Highlands were covered in ice and there were no trees. And what is a native forest? Whatever enters with birds, animals, winds and people. Scots pine and rocks may have covered the area first but it wasn’t long before all kinds of trees entered. What about the idea of one great Caledonian forest? Crumley actually thinks there are four distinct areas that were never fully joined. Part of commonly accepted ideas oversell Victorian myth and the great dark, scary woods of the Roman soldiers who could have marched through but maybe just wanted to go home. There were enough literate people with the Romans who passed on tales of terrible wolves and impenetrable woods.
Crumley says that “From the first, trees have come and gone from the Great Wood, and always will.” That is with smart management and a little human help planting a diverse forest cover. He tells us that nature’s experimentation is to be trusted and biodiversity is a good thing if the Woods are to recover from depredations of monoculture tree plantations, pollution and climate change. Left alone forests often do well for themselves. Helping by planting diverse trees encourages healthy forests that have more life—animals, insects and happy humans.
April 16, 2016
Crumley is a nature writer that i have never heard of until recently. He has written a number of books, and has also done some things for the BBC from what i have found out.
This book is looking at the remnants of the forests that used to cover the landscape of Scotland, that are now very much reduced compared to ancient times. Each chapter is written from a different aspect or perspective or a recollection of a walk taken in a forest, or wild animals seen. He writes with a passion for his subject, be it the trees of the forests and woods, or the red deer, eagles or pine martens that he sees in his explorations. He is scathing of the Forestry Commissions 'management' of the woods and forests, and asks some pretty serious questions as to their future in managing these unique environments. Unlike most nature books, he takes the long view. He considers what these places could become with the reintroduction of wolves, and with a measured approach to the planting of these areas, and looking to re-introduce a proper mix of native species to the forest, and to join the four main ares up.
I found the writing did not flow as well as someone like Mabey, but it was a worthwhile read, and i really like the fact that he is wanting to think of the long term opportunities of these environments for wildlife and man alike.
This book is looking at the remnants of the forests that used to cover the landscape of Scotland, that are now very much reduced compared to ancient times. Each chapter is written from a different aspect or perspective or a recollection of a walk taken in a forest, or wild animals seen. He writes with a passion for his subject, be it the trees of the forests and woods, or the red deer, eagles or pine martens that he sees in his explorations. He is scathing of the Forestry Commissions 'management' of the woods and forests, and asks some pretty serious questions as to their future in managing these unique environments. Unlike most nature books, he takes the long view. He considers what these places could become with the reintroduction of wolves, and with a measured approach to the planting of these areas, and looking to re-introduce a proper mix of native species to the forest, and to join the four main ares up.
I found the writing did not flow as well as someone like Mabey, but it was a worthwhile read, and i really like the fact that he is wanting to think of the long term opportunities of these environments for wildlife and man alike.
September 24, 2022
I've only recently discovered Jim Crumley, but I want to read everything he's written (though I draw the line at paying a tenner for his thinner volumes on swans and the like, which could hide behind a chappati if both were turned side-on). I don't think it's hyperbole to say he's probably the best nature writer in the country.
Here, he explores the legend and reality of the Great Wood of Caledon, and neatly dispels a few misconceptions along the way. The premise: he writes of walks in some of the remaining outposts of the Wood, of their character, and of encounters he's had in them. As in A High And Lonely Place, actually even more so here (as if he's refined nature writing to its essence in the years between the two books), he writes with the most ridiculous, poetic precision, without it ever seeming calculated. He's companionable but, reading this, it seemed to me that every sentence was crafted carefully. He's just a master of his art, and though you get the feeling he could cite and quote far more pretentiously than he does (see Jim Perrin), his voice is a humble but powerful, and powerfully persuasive one. He's not *quite* Nan Shepherd (and he writes on far, far more diverse topics), but I'm happy to think of him as her heir.
One of his gifts is seeing the magic in the small-scale as well as nature's big mis en scenes. He loves individual trees at least as much as sweeps of mixed forest, and he'll tell you why, and you want to go and see for yourself. And though he does love metaphor and poetry (several of his own poems appear here and fit in perfectly), and though he's no scientist, he writes with an empirical heart. The concluding chapter, which I found astonishing but which I won't spoil here, was written after observation, experience, research and thought. And his sign-off is optimistic and inspiring. Or at least I found it so. He's one of those writers in whom you've found a kindred spirit, someone whose every word you'll hang on.
Sole criticism: he writes about forests across a fairly wide patch of Scotland, but nothing north of Glen Affric that I can recall. I yearned to read his thoughts on the scraps of woodland that linger intriguingly in little-trodden dells and gullies in places like Assynt and the Hebrides. He writes tantalisingly of how seafarers prospecting the shores of Scotland centuries ago might have seen a land seemingly covered in impenetrable forest, but what about when they sailed its northernmost shores? Did they not see forest then? If not (and his conclusion suggests he believes not, or at least not much), then why not? I can't write much more without spoiling his hypothetical conclusion, so I'll leave it there.
But other than that, it was perfect from first word to last. I'd have happily continued reading as he wrote about every single disconnected scrap of copse, wood, forestry and plantation in Scotland. A superb writer and a superb little book.
Here, he explores the legend and reality of the Great Wood of Caledon, and neatly dispels a few misconceptions along the way. The premise: he writes of walks in some of the remaining outposts of the Wood, of their character, and of encounters he's had in them. As in A High And Lonely Place, actually even more so here (as if he's refined nature writing to its essence in the years between the two books), he writes with the most ridiculous, poetic precision, without it ever seeming calculated. He's companionable but, reading this, it seemed to me that every sentence was crafted carefully. He's just a master of his art, and though you get the feeling he could cite and quote far more pretentiously than he does (see Jim Perrin), his voice is a humble but powerful, and powerfully persuasive one. He's not *quite* Nan Shepherd (and he writes on far, far more diverse topics), but I'm happy to think of him as her heir.
One of his gifts is seeing the magic in the small-scale as well as nature's big mis en scenes. He loves individual trees at least as much as sweeps of mixed forest, and he'll tell you why, and you want to go and see for yourself. And though he does love metaphor and poetry (several of his own poems appear here and fit in perfectly), and though he's no scientist, he writes with an empirical heart. The concluding chapter, which I found astonishing but which I won't spoil here, was written after observation, experience, research and thought. And his sign-off is optimistic and inspiring. Or at least I found it so. He's one of those writers in whom you've found a kindred spirit, someone whose every word you'll hang on.
Sole criticism: he writes about forests across a fairly wide patch of Scotland, but nothing north of Glen Affric that I can recall. I yearned to read his thoughts on the scraps of woodland that linger intriguingly in little-trodden dells and gullies in places like Assynt and the Hebrides. He writes tantalisingly of how seafarers prospecting the shores of Scotland centuries ago might have seen a land seemingly covered in impenetrable forest, but what about when they sailed its northernmost shores? Did they not see forest then? If not (and his conclusion suggests he believes not, or at least not much), then why not? I can't write much more without spoiling his hypothetical conclusion, so I'll leave it there.
But other than that, it was perfect from first word to last. I'd have happily continued reading as he wrote about every single disconnected scrap of copse, wood, forestry and plantation in Scotland. A superb writer and a superb little book.
March 23, 2021
This was a gem of a book, and I used it as the starting point for a blog post here https://nicktomjoestory.news.blog/202.... It is full of rich phrases, beautiful and vivid description, a real nostalgia for the Great Wood that very probably stretched in the Highlands of Scotland. Its only drawback for me was that the places were not known to me, so relationships between that Loch and this Glen were sometimes lost on me - but this shouldn’t deter, and anyone hankering after a sense of wilderness (and an understanding of how much things are subject to change) should read and delight in it.
February 7, 2017
An informative work on the great wood of Scotland, very much grounded in common sense with the argument not all of Scotland was covered but more so that it may have been 4 larger forests which may or may not connect at varying stages.
May 8, 2019
I picked this book up in the Scottish Crannog Centre by Loch Tay and followed it around the Scottish Highlands. First, to the Fortingall Yew-- a 10,000 year old tree and the oldest living thing in Europe and got shivers at the ancient sight of it and marvelled in the thought of the people through the ages who've seen it too. From that day I took my time following this book along the road through glens and woodlands and painted a picture in my mind of how Scotland might have looked before our native woodlands were felled and what ancient remnants remains since.
This was such a lovely book to read, especially in the highland setting. Reading on the way through Balquhidder Glen, driving between Tummel and Rannoch. Seeing old woodlands and new wildlife.
This book is a beautiful, poetic vision of how the Great Woods of Caledon might have looked and could look again. Can't wait for the day.
Moral of the Story. I do believe in God but I spell it Nature.
This was such a lovely book to read, especially in the highland setting. Reading on the way through Balquhidder Glen, driving between Tummel and Rannoch. Seeing old woodlands and new wildlife.
This book is a beautiful, poetic vision of how the Great Woods of Caledon might have looked and could look again. Can't wait for the day.
Moral of the Story. I do believe in God but I spell it Nature.
April 21, 2014
Reading this book has been a bit like walking into a wood in the middle of a conversation. I felt as if I was picking up part way through old arguments and discussions and enjoying the patterns of words and images while never quite catching up. Or “catching up” isn’t quite right, more that that earlier conversation had established parameters that were now taken for granted while I was still not quite convinced
This is a lovely book. Crumley’s writing carries a rich sense of place. There is a strong feel of the woods he describes as he visits relics of ancient woodland and ambitious replanting schemes across the Highlands of Scotland. The writing is so tied to place that eventually I read most of this with a map-book beside me to get those orientations that he holds so intensely in his words.
The last of the oakwoods
There is a tendency towards melodrama that does grow wearing. He seems determined to see the “last” of things and new planting schemes are never going to replace what has been lost. We visit a lot of “lasts” and “last of the oak woods” is a feel running through everything.That may be true but while he will use the long centuries of tree growth in the Highlands to sadden his writing, for me the tides of coming and going woodland provides more hope than he seems to offer. He does, however, refreshingly embrace new species arguing that 500 years of residence should really allow larch and Sitka spruce to count as almost local now. He argues that the issues around species like these isn’t so much the trees themselves as how we work with them. Spruce do not naturally grow in intensive monocultures: we should be blamed for those not the trees!
Then there is the Fortingall Yew and a very evocative opening chapter with descriptions of this ancient tree ( several thousand years for certain and quite possibly several more) “incarcerated” behind a Victorian railing (to keep trophy hunters form snipping bits off) and a cheerfully bitter snipe at the arrogance of a National Grid sponsored plaque attached to those same railings. But to parallel the yew with a snow leopard miserable in a cage for me misses point. What are several hundred of railings to a tree who has lived for those thousands of years? The railings do not bite the bark, are not rubbing the wood sore. The railings are about humans and access and an inadvertent ease from trampling feet compacting the earth (go and look at the Major Oak for a tree sighing with relief now that its roots aren’t quite so oppressed by wellington boots). Surely a tree like a yew would take railings in its stride? Sprouting under, or leaning over, growing past them one way or another. It is the Fortingall yew. It is several thousand years old. Given half a chance it will go on simply being itself, regardless of us, for a few years more.
Wolves, beavers and bears
There is a similar sense within all the beauty of Crumley’s writing of the woods serving his own arguments. Admittedly, any writer does that but wolves and their absence seem to surface crop up every chapter (echoes of an earlier book) to the extent of feeling “read this before, get on with the longer tale”. My copy is paperback published in 2011 and it would be interesting to see a more recent edition reflecting on current discussions about re-wilding and the importance of large herbivores (and for northern woods the associated wolves and lynx). Or discussion about the impact of the now clearer much largely than ever anticipated colonies of feral beavers in tayside - or a detour down to Forest of Dean to see the impact of a returning wild boar tribe.
Whose myth is it anyway?
“The Great Wood” of the title is the “Great Wood of Caledon”: the almost legendary wildwood that stretched from sea to sea across Scotland, frowning at Romans and sheltering lupine, cervine, ursine and human tribes in equal measure (I like the way that different animals are tribes as much as humans throughout the book) . The Great Wood circles back to dispelling this prevalent myth repeatedly - and interestingly - what trees grew and where and when. The myth of the Great Wood is taken for granted. It is assumed that the wider population of these Islands firmly believes that we were once blanketed with trees from shore to shore. I am not convinced of that. I think the environmentalist/conservationist/nature writing worlds all thin that that is what everyone else thinks. But I’m not so sure. I wonder if the myth of the Great Wood is our (see tribe above and add in some nostalgic Golden Age pagans and occasional Druids) myth and not everyone else’s.
I tried talking to folk in the pub “what did Britain look like before the Romans” - no mention of the Wildwood, just feed the line out and see what comes back...And we had pretty much what it looks like now, yes, with more trees, “but they couldn’t have grown here. Soil’s too thin”. Probably a bit more Ice Age (the animated films not a nice documentary) than anything else. But no wildwood, no blanket cover of ancient woodland with grandfather oaks and grandmother ash. Maybe we - professional environmental types and artists and mythographers and storytellers need to look more closely at the myths we take for granted.
Rambles aside. I enjoyed this book. Vivid, passionate and provoking - in a way that has kept me reading it rather than throwing it across the room (which happens with some other woodland books)
Recommended!
This is a lovely book. Crumley’s writing carries a rich sense of place. There is a strong feel of the woods he describes as he visits relics of ancient woodland and ambitious replanting schemes across the Highlands of Scotland. The writing is so tied to place that eventually I read most of this with a map-book beside me to get those orientations that he holds so intensely in his words.
The last of the oakwoods
There is a tendency towards melodrama that does grow wearing. He seems determined to see the “last” of things and new planting schemes are never going to replace what has been lost. We visit a lot of “lasts” and “last of the oak woods” is a feel running through everything.That may be true but while he will use the long centuries of tree growth in the Highlands to sadden his writing, for me the tides of coming and going woodland provides more hope than he seems to offer. He does, however, refreshingly embrace new species arguing that 500 years of residence should really allow larch and Sitka spruce to count as almost local now. He argues that the issues around species like these isn’t so much the trees themselves as how we work with them. Spruce do not naturally grow in intensive monocultures: we should be blamed for those not the trees!
Then there is the Fortingall Yew and a very evocative opening chapter with descriptions of this ancient tree ( several thousand years for certain and quite possibly several more) “incarcerated” behind a Victorian railing (to keep trophy hunters form snipping bits off) and a cheerfully bitter snipe at the arrogance of a National Grid sponsored plaque attached to those same railings. But to parallel the yew with a snow leopard miserable in a cage for me misses point. What are several hundred of railings to a tree who has lived for those thousands of years? The railings do not bite the bark, are not rubbing the wood sore. The railings are about humans and access and an inadvertent ease from trampling feet compacting the earth (go and look at the Major Oak for a tree sighing with relief now that its roots aren’t quite so oppressed by wellington boots). Surely a tree like a yew would take railings in its stride? Sprouting under, or leaning over, growing past them one way or another. It is the Fortingall yew. It is several thousand years old. Given half a chance it will go on simply being itself, regardless of us, for a few years more.
Wolves, beavers and bears
There is a similar sense within all the beauty of Crumley’s writing of the woods serving his own arguments. Admittedly, any writer does that but wolves and their absence seem to surface crop up every chapter (echoes of an earlier book) to the extent of feeling “read this before, get on with the longer tale”. My copy is paperback published in 2011 and it would be interesting to see a more recent edition reflecting on current discussions about re-wilding and the importance of large herbivores (and for northern woods the associated wolves and lynx). Or discussion about the impact of the now clearer much largely than ever anticipated colonies of feral beavers in tayside - or a detour down to Forest of Dean to see the impact of a returning wild boar tribe.
Whose myth is it anyway?
“The Great Wood” of the title is the “Great Wood of Caledon”: the almost legendary wildwood that stretched from sea to sea across Scotland, frowning at Romans and sheltering lupine, cervine, ursine and human tribes in equal measure (I like the way that different animals are tribes as much as humans throughout the book) . The Great Wood circles back to dispelling this prevalent myth repeatedly - and interestingly - what trees grew and where and when. The myth of the Great Wood is taken for granted. It is assumed that the wider population of these Islands firmly believes that we were once blanketed with trees from shore to shore. I am not convinced of that. I think the environmentalist/conservationist/nature writing worlds all thin that that is what everyone else thinks. But I’m not so sure. I wonder if the myth of the Great Wood is our (see tribe above and add in some nostalgic Golden Age pagans and occasional Druids) myth and not everyone else’s.
I tried talking to folk in the pub “what did Britain look like before the Romans” - no mention of the Wildwood, just feed the line out and see what comes back...And we had pretty much what it looks like now, yes, with more trees, “but they couldn’t have grown here. Soil’s too thin”. Probably a bit more Ice Age (the animated films not a nice documentary) than anything else. But no wildwood, no blanket cover of ancient woodland with grandfather oaks and grandmother ash. Maybe we - professional environmental types and artists and mythographers and storytellers need to look more closely at the myths we take for granted.
Rambles aside. I enjoyed this book. Vivid, passionate and provoking - in a way that has kept me reading it rather than throwing it across the room (which happens with some other woodland books)
Recommended!
January 8, 2026
This book examines the widely held believe there was a Great Wood of Caledon, which covered most of Scotland hundreds/thousands of years ago. It looks at areas of woodland that exist today (or more accurately when the book was written a few years ago), to see if they might have been a part of such a wood. It also looks to what could be done to make better, bigger woods in Scotland in the future, and why.
Borrowed from the library.
Borrowed from the library.
February 23, 2018
Another brilliant book by Jim Crumley, this time about The Great Wood of Caledon, with a larger focus on Scotland's need to return nature, in the form of trees, back to the way it used to be. Fascinating and highly informative, Crumley also talks about the benefits it would have to wildlife as well as the benefits it had to wildlife in the past.
Fascinating stuff.
Fascinating stuff.
June 25, 2020
Had high hopes for this but unfortunately found it meandering, dull and, as another reviewer has said, seemingly without purpose. The chapters blur into each other and really, you could read them in any order. For that matter, you could almost read the pages in any order. So disappointing.
March 28, 2021
Wonderful read especially for T'ree huggers like me!
Superb writing. Jim Crumley's descriptions made me feel I was in each location he wrote about some of which I have already been to and wish to visit again along with those I have not.
Superb writing. Jim Crumley's descriptions made me feel I was in each location he wrote about some of which I have already been to and wish to visit again along with those I have not.
October 4, 2025
sooo nice to read book about trees / some really nice descriptions / maybe not quite as fact packed as I hoped and I also lost the thread of what he was saying - pro or anti forest I actually couldn’t work out. Also not Jim’s fault - but my favourite bit of this was the weird interaction he had with a 90s - 2000s style ‘tree hugger’ lady who he met in the forest hugging trees. So maybe I need reads that are rooted in the human. Also ngl published in 2011- made me sad about the erosion and lack of hope in the last 15 years in nature conservation chat
January 3, 2018
I loved this book! I love the forest and trees and nature! Crumley's writing left me determined to take his forest walks! Fascinating book!
June 27, 2021
Excellent account of some areas of native Scottish woodland and exploring the theory of the great wood.
February 25, 2023
I read this book for work, and unfortunately, was bored for the full duration of the text.
June 23, 2024
Should be read while outside ideally sitting in a wood
August 13, 2024
It can be hard to review non fiction but here goes. This was a pleasant wee read. I liked the tone of the writing, conversational musings more than anything else. The writer does make his opinions felt, but don’t expect too much of a ‘gameplan’, I did genuinely feel like I’d joined the writer for some light conversation on a hike, which was nice. I reckon if you’re not into trees this would bore the shite out of you though.
March 20, 2014
This is a look at how the woods of Scotland have developed over time. Crumley presents a view showing how impoverished our landscapes have become with our current practice.
Crumley paints a compelling picture arguing for four great woods being regrown and the reintroduction of several keystone species. My main criticism of the book is that sometimes the narrative jumps around too much - at points it reads like Crumley had wrote something previously and just wanted to stick it in somewhere.
That being said the writing is well researched and the prose an enjoyable read. Crumley writes from a wealth of experience and a deep love of nature . You'll be left with hope and a renewed appreciation of our 'wild' places.
Crumley paints a compelling picture arguing for four great woods being regrown and the reintroduction of several keystone species. My main criticism of the book is that sometimes the narrative jumps around too much - at points it reads like Crumley had wrote something previously and just wanted to stick it in somewhere.
That being said the writing is well researched and the prose an enjoyable read. Crumley writes from a wealth of experience and a deep love of nature . You'll be left with hope and a renewed appreciation of our 'wild' places.
June 14, 2013
I think it is time to move on to something else. I thought this would be more interesting but it is just not my cup of tea. There are a lot of books I would like to read and this turned out to not be one of them. Oh well. The cover art was pretty cool and the blurb on the back enticed me into buying this at the National Museum of Scotland and I did like some of the poetry that he included. Sadly, it was not enough to keep me reading. It was snooze worthy.
November 3, 2012
I found this one alot less engrossing than the author's excellent book The Last Wolf, mostly because it seemed to lack direction, argument, or overall purpose. Still, he is the best nature author I have ever read and that comes across very strongly.
Displaying 1 - 21 of 21 reviews