The Fish Ladder: A Journey Upstream

by Katharine Norbury

Part travelogue, part memoir, The Fish Ladder is a deeply moving story of an adoptee’s search for personal identity set against a backdrop of the finest British nature writing.

Katharine Norbury was abandoned as a baby in a Liverpool convent. Raised by a loving adoptive family, she grew into a wanderer, drawn by the landscape of the British countryside.

One summer, following the miscarriage of a much-longed-for child, Katharine sets out—accompanied by her nine-year-old daughter, Evie—with the idea of following a river from the sea to its source. The luminously observed landscape grounds the walkers, providing both a constant and a context to their expeditions. But what begins as a diversion from grief evolves into a journey to the source of life itself: a life threatening illness forces Katharine to seek a genetic medical history, and this new and unexpected path delivers her to the door of the woman who abandoned her all those years ago.

Combining travelogue, memoir, exquisite nature writing, and fragments of poems with tales from Celtic mythology, The Fish Ladder has a rare emotional resonance. It is a portrait of motherhood, of a literary marriage, a hymn to the adoptive family, but perhaps most of all it is an exploration of the extraordinary majesty of the natural world. Imbued with a keen and joyful intelligence, this original and life-affirming book is set to become a classic of its genre.

Genres: Nonfiction, Memoir, Nature, Travel, Biography Memoir, Book Club, Biography

304 pages, Hardcover

First published February 12, 2015

Reviews

[Penny · Rating 3 out of 5]

Enjoyed this very much – and for a first book it’s pretty amazing. I’ve seen comparisons with H is for Hawk and I don’t really agree except that these are both books where feelings, emotions and lives are pretty much laid bare. I liked the mixture of memoir, travelogue and some gorgeous nature writing.
I did have a problem with it though, and maybe it’s just me but it stopped me giving it a higher rating. The problem started in the chapter when Norbury visits the Angel of the North and on resuming her journey makes a wrong turning and misses the correct road. She tries to correct her error then says she sees a sign for Fountains Abbey and decides to follow it. Nonsense! Fountains Abbey is 70 MILES from the Angel of the North.
She then reaches Ripon which she calls a town (it’s a city) and says that Fountains is not near it. Nonsense again – it’s close to Ripon and very well signed. It's a World Heritage Site after all! Instead we get a description of her aimlessly driving across fields trying to find it. You’d be very hard pressed to miss it!
And her boast about avoiding paying to park in the Visitor Centre car park is once again untrue. You park for free and you only pay once you are in the centre and wish to visit the Abbey and Water Gardens. There's an admissions area you pass through to reach the ruins.
This might all seem petty, but it made me start to wonder what else was poetic licence.
Further boasting was made when she decided to ignore signs not to climb Silbury Hill (they are there for a reason) and decides they don’t apply to her. Thankfully not everyone is so selfish. Not impressed.

[Rebecca · Rating 4 out of 5]

In her first book, Norbury travels to find the sources of rivers, interweaving the story of how she rediscovered her birth family and her health.

Each chapter of this evocative memoir is named after a meaningful place, often a body of water. Norbury, born in a Liverpool convent hospital, was given up for adoption. She was living in Barcelona with her husband and their nine-year-old daughter, Evie, when she suffered a miscarriage. Returning to spend time at their Welsh cottage, loss weighed on her: a friend died suddenly and her father succumbed to cancer; her grief veered close to madness.

Always fascinated by origin myths, Norbury decided to look for her own. The idea of following rivers from sea to source would be, more metaphorically, “a journey to the source of life itself,” a way to retrieve her life. She and Evie walk various streams but central to this book is the journey along Scotland’s Dunbeath Water, a two-day trek inspired by Neil Gunn’s The Well at the World’s End – a destination she reached despite cold, boggy ground and midges.

Like a waterway, The Fish Ladder meanders, slipping between past and present to make symbolic connections. When an encounter with breast cancer makes understanding her family history essential, the book prioritizes the hunt for her birth mother – though, alas, it’s no fairy tale ending.

Norbury writes beautifully about nature and life in a debut that fans of Helen Macdonald’s H is for Hawk will love.

[Paul · Rating 3 out of 5]

Norbury has always been missing something from her past. She had been abandoned as a baby in a convent just outside Liverpool and had been adopted into a loving family. She had never been able to settle completely wandering and moving around the globe. Whilst living in Spain she miscarried, losing a long hoped for sibling for her eldest daughter Evie. Grief for the loss the child and of what might have been turned into an introspective look at herself, and the germination of an idea to follow a river from mouth to source. Moving back to the UK meant that she was closer to family and could start to develop this idea fully. Hoping that the walk will distract her from the grief, a life changing event means that she has to try to find her birth mother who she hopes will have some of the answers to her questions.

Norbury has drawn inspiration from several genres to write this book. Weaving travel, natural history, poetry and mythology it is also a very personal memoir. It is quite an emotive read too, with the highs and lows of family and life laid bare. The writing is poetic, lyrical and at times dreamlike and ethereal, almost with a imagined quality. Her writing is when she is describing the natural world and landscape is very evocative too; you could be standing alongside her. Painful to read at times, you live with her trials and tribulations, but she is tenacious in the face of everything. Enjoyable generally, but occasionally felt a touch fictional. Would definitely read more by her though. 3.5 stars.

[Mike Sumner · Rating 5 out of 5]

I often select a book to purchase based upon the sleeve artwork. ‘The Fish Ladder’ by Katharine Norbury was no exception. I came across it on one of my recent forays into Waterstones bookshop and bought a copy. Philip Pullman describes it as “A beautiful, strange, intoxicating and utterly unique story”. This book is a gem. Described as a combination of memoir, travelogue and nature writing The Fish Ladder is incredibly visual. Interlaced with fragments of poetry and tales from Celtic mythology. Katharine Norbury was abandoned as a baby in a Liverpool convent. Raised by loving, adoptive parents she grew into a wanderer, drawn by the beauty of the British countryside.

Norbury’s clever use of word combinations is unique. She has a very special talent:

“I could make out occasional townships, slipped like love-notes into cracks along the coast”

just one sentence that conveys so much.

“... and a few aged sisters sat in pews, white as doves, tucked into prayer”.

Such a beautiful depiction of the purity of introspection and contemplation.
There are moments that take your breath away. This passage made me stop and then re-read several times:

“I could feel the boniness of his frame, pared by illness, and no matter how close we stood, or how tightly we embraced, the gap between us seemed to be widening, the pockets of air expanding, and then acquiring the solidity of Perspex. Dad felt like a fairy’s child that disappears when seen for what it is. I held in my arms a bundle of twigs and feathers, already splintering into dust”.

On her journey of self discovery Katherine is accompanied by her nine-year-old daughter , Evie. This is a captivating story that is also an exploration of the majesty of the natural world. It is totally original and life-affirming.

[Suki · Rating 3 out of 5]

I've just finished this book, it took me a year to read it. The first quarter was like wading through mud, the second quarter was achieved with a determination to see whether it got any better. Once I reached the half way point it was sheer bloody-mindedness to finish what I had started even though I was reading barely 2 pages a night (but it helped sleep come), and then all of a sudden it got good.

Similar to a previous reviewer, I felt that something clicked and her voice became more authentic somehow and less detached and frivolously poetic. It started as an ode to nature basically, with little substance and a collection of pretty but often bleak and melancholy visuals. The wade through the mud would have been made much easier if there were more than a few very sparsely scattered nuggets of substance to tempt us onwards, like E.T.'s smarties.

Once the story of the author seeking her heritage started to gain traction, spurned on by her parents' diminishing health and her own health challenges, and the previously vague analogy started to take shape around following a river to its source, the hook was in and I took pleasure in the author's beautifully poetic turn of phrase and the forward moving slide to the book's conclusion. I closed the back cover smiling from the final pages which provided fulfillment in the outcome of her search for family ties to ground her from her watery roamings.

[Sophy H · Rating 4 out of 5]

Original review 2021:

Whilst this was beautifully written, with charming references to ancient folklore and archaic pathways, I felt myself being brought down by this book.

After reading, I felt deflated and dispirited, I think because of all the negative things that occurred to the author throughout her tale.

Strong writing, but be prepared to go through the grinder mentally.

Re-read March 2025:

In my "water-themed" bookshelf re-read, this actually increased in star rating. I see that my original read was a 3 star. My experience this time was a 4.5 star read.

Katherine writes beautifully with a very poetic nature.

I see that I was "deflated" and "dispirited" last time I read this, whereas this time over, I could totally empathise with Katherine and really felt her pain of life experience. Perhaps losing my mum at the beginning of the year has made my viewpoint different. I really sympathised with Katherine in trying to discover something of her past and being met with stubborn mulishness. Parents, whether absent or present can really fuck you up, both mentally and physically.

I loved the metaphor of Katherine's experience; finding the source of a river, like tracing yourself back to your roots.

This was an enjoyable 4.5 star reading experience and back it goes onto my bookshelf for another future day.

[Michael Bohli · Rating 4 out of 5]

Verlust, keine Perspektive in der erdrückenden Welt und Fragen zur eigenen Herkunft haben Katharine Norbury dazu gebracht, sich in die Natur zu begeben und dort Ursprung und Ruhe zu finden. In "Die Fischtreppe" beschreibt sie ihre Reisen, Sinnsuchungen und Hürden - als gelungene Mischung von sachlicher Erzählung, emotionaler Biografie und poetischem Naturroman. Nicht selten erinnerte mich das Buch darum an "H wie Habicht", wenn es auch nicht ganz dessen Dichte erreichte.

Norbury zeigt mit ihrem ersten Buch aber ein grosses Talent, Weitsicht und Kulturgeist. So lässt sie ihre Reise nicht nur von Tieren und Wasser begleiten, sondern auch literaturhistorischen Zitaten und lokalen Sagen. Das lässt die britischen Inseln nicht nur einiges verwunschener erscheinen, es macht auch die Menschlichkeit wieder mysteriöser und aufregender.

[Sherrie · Rating 4 out of 5]

A journey of discovery for the author, she works her way to the source of "the well at the worlds end" and in the process comes to terms with grief, a life threatening illness and finds her blood relatives. A descriptive book, I enjoyed reading.

[Kate · Rating 3 out of 5]

Many years ago my flatmate took The Independent on Sunday and I would read the magazine that came with it. That is, until the pervasive and oblivious privilege of the contributors became too irritating. I had a similar response to this book although I persevered and am glad to have done so even if it did take stamina.
The first half of the book reads like a series of false starts and despite Norbury's self-absorption has a curiously detached tone. For instance, when treating folktales, she doesn't so much tell the story as tell about it. I found both book and author difficult to engage with. It was hard to resist making unfavourable comparisons with Olivia Laing's "To the River" which has a similar starting point (in personal tragedy) and theme (though travelling in the opposite direction) and also takes in diverse topics prompted by the river but does so with an altogether tighter focus and (I am sorry to say) a more likeable narrative voice.
Once Norbury finally reaches Dunbeath Water, something clicks: the pace picks up and the book comes alive. She does write beautifully and with feeling, both about the natural world and her personal/familial challenges. It is a pity I had to get halfway through the book before I could really appreciate this.

[Duncan M Simpson · Rating 4 out of 5]

The best books are those we don't want to end, the ones that we wish could go on forever. This was one of those.

Katharine Norbury's writing is beautiful and brilliant, plain and at the same time lyrical, best when describing those half caught moments when "rain covered the the western side of the plain like plastic sheeting.." and even better when describing people like the barman at one hotel where she stayed.

Her book is a modern one, falling in that genre that is nature writing, but which is also memoir and lyric. It describes a journey, to the source of a river, a quest to find a mother who had left her to be adopted and of the writer's battle with cancer. It is all that and more.

[Michele · Rating 3 out of 5]

2015 has been a rather good year for reading and this is no exception.
The book meanders through memory and countryside rather like a river. Norbury certainly has a rather wonderful way with words.
For the present 3 stars but this may be reviewed. Marked down slightly for the possible editing/fact checking issue re the geographical placement of Fountains Abbey and parking and the implausibility of chancing upon your birthplace. I am an old cynic but I await more of her work.
Left me with a pleasant aftertaste.

[Penny Jones · Rating 4 out of 5]

I read this book slowly, dipping in and out over time. Sections - especially those from familiar places around the Mersey and the Dee I found mesmerising, bringing to life places I have not seen in recent decades. The interweaving of travel and nature writing with an intensely personal odyssey of self-discovery in the midst of some emotional and physical pain was unexpected and refreshing. It is a meditative interweaving of the human story with the stories of land and water that is unusual in the modern era. Well worth the read - and with ancestors from the Llyn peninsula I now have even more reason to visit

[Els · Rating 4 out of 5]

I was privileged to read this, certainly. Ms. Norbury is brilliantly talented. But other than “I adored the writing and the first half of the book,” I’m really out of coherent thoughts today? In short, I was expecting a nature narrative, and this book is about Ms. Norbury’s struggles with her adoption etc., so some level of content? I still definitely appreciate the book, but was disappointed in losing my perfect nature narrative. :)

[Steph · Rating 3 out of 5]

I found myself racing through the nature bits to get “back to the story”. Lovely book though. I appreciate that it was different than what I usually read (thanks library recommends shelf!).

[SS]

DNF

112 pages in and I can't keep going.

The nature writing in this book, that is celebrated by some, drowns and confuses the story that the author seems to be want to expose.

[Claudia_Elisabeth · Rating 3 out of 5]

3,5 *

[Pat Morris-jones · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book gave me mixed feelings. Some parts were interesting, some of her writing was poetry disguised as prose. Sometimes I was bored rigid and irritated by why I was reading about her emotions. Fine for her to write, but why was I made to read about them in such flowery language ( I think I could tell it was a first book, so many metaphors and similes, and overdose of words in a sentence). I almost gave up half way through, but being a book club book, I soldiered on.
I did learn that it is a book that is best read at a gallop. I read the last half in one sitting ( only a couple of hours as easy to read). I enjoyed the last half better.
I understood how she wanted to follow a river from sea to source but then dotted around the country so much I thought she was just choosing what suited her, I found this irritating. Her life story and how she felt about those events, I felt, were the best parts. Others may disagree. I am not a natural world reader, so may be biased. Also maybe mood I was in....
Anyway. It was ok. Not great but ok. Think, maybe not my type of book. She needed to write it. I’m not sure I needed to read it.

[Anneliese Tirry · Rating 5 out of 5]

Het gebeurt zelden, eigenlijk nooit, dat wanneer ik een boek uit heb, ik het onmiddellijk wil herlezen. Wel, bij dit boek heb ik veel zin om het te doen.
Zoals een zalm terugkeert naar zijn geboortegrond, zo neemt Katharine Norburg de lezer mee op zoek naar haar eigen oorsprong.
Wat begint als een natuurboek (de eerste hoofdstukken deden me bij wijlen sterk denken aan de boeken van Robert MacFarlane - blijkbaar voerde ze ook een correspondentie met hem) en leest als een terugblik op een "gewoon" leven, wordt na een levensbedreigende ziekte een missie op zoek naar haar oorspong (de schrijfster werd geadopteerd). Uit haar verhaal blijkt alweer hoe belangrijk onze persoonlijke geschiedenis is, dat het belangrijk is te weten tot welke clan we behoren, wat onze identiteit is. Hoe dit weten en kennen bijdraagt tot het je volledig voelen als persoon.
Het boek heeft me bijwijlen zeer ontroerd.

[Rachel · Rating 2 out of 5]

Very unusual for me to not finish a book. I couldn't go on with this. Narrator so unbelievably self absorbed but not in an interesting way. The idea of following a river to its source attracted me to this book but I couldn't get over my irritation in the way it was written.

[Janice · Rating 4 out of 5]

For me, this is a book about adoption. Tracing a river is metaphor for finding a way from beginnings to ends, or in Norbury's case, end to beginning, the only perspective for an adoptee to search and find.

[Kate McKinney · Rating 3 out of 5]

(NOTE: *SPOILER ALERTS* at various points in the review, things are revealed): An adoptive daughter walks a seeking trip up a river w/her own daughter. Beautiful concept, & I've been very eager to read this book; but it turned out to be disappointing for me. Reviewers raved about the author's poetic & lyrical writing; but I find it contrived & stilted. Pretentious as well... It's almost like she's admiring her prose as she writes it. Self-important & overly preoccupied w/herself & her unusual observations of ordinary things. I'm not so much into the little "British-ism's" either (this one has things like "tires" being spelled "tyres" etc..). Some very weird phrasing as well (ie; "I would have known the place if I were brought back blindfold" - instead of blindfolded? - that's not even correct grammar?!). Ugh. What a slog, reading thru pages & pages of descriptions where there's no other activity whatsoever, aside from her thoughts & walking along a "spit." I normally have no problem w/slow books which create an atmosphere; but for me, her writing didn't achieve that; it was merely self-indulgent. More like a diary. It was as if she didn't even need the reader. Or her daughter. Only herself, like this book was some sort of psychiatric sojourn exclusively for her, without much thought for her audience. (Like the author, I've lost multiple pregnancies before finally, gratefully, being able to give birth to my daughter; and yes, I cried & grieved the lost babies, but I didn't need to go off & take a special trip & write a book just to soak in all the feelings) - (Like the author, I also happen to be an adoptee & although I've certainly had to process things around this, it hasn't become an all-encompassing primary pursuit, like it seems to have become for her). So while it would seem that she & I have major things in common, I have a hard time identifying w/her, because of the way she chooses to approach her situation. She seems quite self-absorbed. In fact, I almost get a sense of possible mental-health issues or dysregulation. The author details the mundane actions of ordinary life as if each one were a momentous step, subjecting the reader to ultra-detailed descriptions of numerous peripheral objects & people. Reading along, one presumes that she's preparing to reveal something significant about the place or person; but, No. Simply describing stones, sand, an individual bird or random person. Almost reminiscent of someone taking hallucinogenics, seeing so much more into each thing than is necessary. At one point, the author describes for several pages how she walks up behind a man on the beach & becomes alarmed to see him throwing rocks in the water w/great effervescence & she feels somehow afraid that he might harm her, so she decides to lay down in the sand behind him, concealed by marsh-grass & go to SLEEP!?! What!? Another trip she takes to a different beach w/her daughter, has the author dropping down into the stones/pebbles of the rocky beach & sleeping there (while her young daughter plays near the water unsupervised!!). What is going on w/her?! Why is she choosing to sleep in random public places outdoors? Yet she writes it down as if this is all quite regular. Seemingly insignificant conversations are replayed in detail (ie; mundane conversations betw the author, her mother & her daughter, about what they'll do, or eat, that day). The prose contains many lofty words, requiring a dictionary close-by; yet there's hardly anything going on, to even describe. Readers are also subjected to pages & pages concerning her father's death, her mother's death & her own cancer battle (I had no desire to read on any of these topics, nor was any warning given in the book descriptions I saw, that this kind of content would be included & it was very morbid/depressing). The book was consistently irritating to read & felt like a waste of time; almost like a voyeuristic journey into someone's private journal, better viewed by a counselor/therapist or perhaps a tolerant lover. I stayed with it, in hopes it would evoke something useful to inform my own adoptive journey; but it failed to do that, & I'd already started skimming by about page 50. Somewhere in the middle of book there were actually a couple of spots where she addressed some of the substance of what the book was supposed to be about (there were only a few sentences on it, but something, at least): regarding the marooned sensation that can be experienced by adoptees, feeling out of their element or incomplete, knowing nothing about the father, etc..). The ending chapters of the book were maybe slightly more satisfying, providing some confirmation & resonance around the confounding experience of attempting to contact a birth-parent (w/the outcome of possible "secondary rejection"), & describing how she handled that; however why the author waited until page 248 out of 282 to raise this central aspect, I don't know. The final pages were as elusive & inconclusive as the rest of the book. I appreciate the earnestness of her endeavor. But I didn't feel she portrayed it effectively for readers, since she was so tuned into herself. A lot of overhead, for a small return.

[Hannah · Rating 3 out of 5]

The book seemed to have been proofread by two different editors between the first two-thirds and the last third of the book. The beginning was choppy, with no clear sense of direction. Moreover, I struggled to make sense of how the ending related to the story - I am not one to read historical fairy tales, those of Celtic/Gaelic nature at that.

Getting through the first 35% of the book was by sheer determination and my desire to not have any DNC books this year. I'm glad I made it through.

Though the overarching theme is about the aforementioned series of fairy tales, the true story emerges around the 60% mark, when an unexpected occasion procures a strong desire from the protagonist to finish her journey to see the river from the source (fostered by an attachment to the sea she had as a child). It is only then the author ties together the loose threads of the subplots scattered here and there.

I noticed, at the 80% mark, that I struggled with much of the book because of how rapidly Norbury divests from one scene to another, leaving the reader to scramble together what they have just read and make sense of their connections with one another as she jumps from thought to reality to folktale. The last fifth of the book travels at a relaxed (or, standard to other novels) pace, where personal details of the MC emerge and we have a focussed lens on her current situation. The latter part of the book was easier to digest because of this - I noticed I was more engaged with the characters in the book and eagerly awaited the outcome of each chapter.

Would I recommend this? Depending on your flavour for geography and folklore, this book could be for you. If you have ADHD, this book will be a nightmare. Still, I am glad I learnt a little more about the British (English/Welsh) forage; I can safely tuck this away in a pile of books I'd unlikely pick up again.

[Skye · Rating 5 out of 5]

I needed to read a book with a river on the cover. When I googled such a requirement, this is one of the few books that came up. And man, am I glad that it did. There is just something about the winding, lazy way in which Norbury tells her story that was both completely relaxing and thoroughly enjoyable. Although I have nothing to compare her adventures to, I almost feel like there is a part of me that has now been discovered and it gives me the inspiration to go forth into my own life and keep finding my own way forward.

Unlike a lot of the memoirs that I have recently read, there isn’t really a central story that is outlined here. Not one specific journey or moment of epiphany that really strikes out at me. Instead, there is the central theme of family and motherhood. The idea that even though she is adopted, there are strong familial ties between Katharine and her adoptive family. But there is also a strong tie to the woman who gave her up for adoption and it is this that really drives the feeling of longing forward and into the reader a Katharine’s beautiful words unfold.

This wasn’t one of those earth shatteringly amazing stories. It probably hasn’t changed my life in anyway. But it was incredibly beautiful. And immensely easy to read. It was a great lazy Sunday read to sink my brain into while I was trying to unwind at the end of the long day. And it certainly reminded me of how lucky and grateful I am to have the mother and family that I have.

[Bex · Rating 5 out of 5]

Probably my favourite book of all the ones I've read so far this year. One thing I really love in interactions with my fellow human beings is when they are brave and courageous enough to be open and vulnerable, especially with regard to what they are feeling and experiencing. This book epitomised that bravery, for me. Parts of it hit me like a sucker punch (I won't give any spoilers by saying which parts), and I'm not ashamed to say I cried hot, salty tears reading this book on a bus. The author's personal journey for her source was woven against a backdrop of following rivers to their sources, and this was done in a beautiful and poetic way, and not as heavy-handed as I have found with other authors who have undertaken physical journeys in their writing. A beautiful, sad, honest, brave, important book. I'm so glad I read it, because it is a reminder that life is hard, but there is also such beauty, always.

[Pat · Rating 5 out of 5]

I have always wanted to trace a river from the sea to its source, to see the tiny spring from which a river builds. Katharine Norbury, recovering from the loss of a pregnancy, decides that such a task will help her heal from her devastating loss. Sometimes alone, and sometimes with her nine-year-old daughter Evie, she follows several rivers in the United Kingdom, from sea to source, pressing on despite considerable physical and emotional barriers.
Norbury's prose takes you along on her travels. Her description of sights and sounds, of beauty and, sometimes ugly landscapes, is an eloquent appeal to the readers' senses. As Norbury walks she recounts stories of her life and her relationships with family, friends and ones told to her by people she comes across on her travels. As she walks she comes to terms with what has happened and begins to see a way that she can move forward.

Lose yourself in this book. It is a meditative read that I found restorative and optimistic.

[Kate · Rating 3 out of 5]

Lovely descriptions of nature and landscapes. I could hear the midges, too, as the author took refuge in her clothing, sleeping bag & tent.

My experience with rivers is that they are much longer than the ones the author walked. It was hard to believe that someone could actually walk from the sea to the origin of the river in one day (or so.) I had to remind myself that these rivers are in a smaller locale, thereby making the day trip possible.

The author and her daughter have a special relationship, much like the author and her father. Someone wrote that this book "may be another "H is for Hawk" but I found this book much more interesting. The legends added a mystical element and I had never heard of the legend, Caganet, the Shitter. He is the shepherd who needed to relieve himself while adoring the Holy Family and, as a result, created fertile ground forever. 🤔

[Jane · Rating 5 out of 5]

I was asked to review by Nudge

Gosh how did I miss this - been published for 3 years.

What a find, so beautifully written by an author whose life has had it's ups and downs to say the least.

She goes on a journey with her daughter to follow a river from sea to the source.

extraordinary memoir/travel/nature with poetry in into the mix. This is about discovering ones self, motherhood and family life written with emotion but also with the beauty of nature.

So many aspects are woven into this story , I particularly liked the Celtic anecdotes and her time in Scotland camping - I could imagine these darn midges.

The author is on a quest to find her birth mother - which readers will find very moving.

An absolute compelling read from beginning to end.

This is the author's first book - what a debut- cannot wait to see what she writes next.

[Martin J · Rating 4 out of 5]

It took me a while to get into this book - indeed I considered quitting by page 50 but decided to stick with it. Fairly glad I did, though the book didn’t come together for me until around page 180! By then I was appreciating it for what I think it is, namely an account of a personal/spiritual journey. The book really really came together for me in its last 50ish pages - a section which I found quite moving.
One observation/reflection - I wondered if the author keeps a daily log or diary? There were many instances recorded in the book which seemed quite detailed. These left me wondering if the author has an impressive memory, or was going back to a diary to recall details, or was writing the book on a day-to-day basis along the way, or was maybe doing some creative ‘embellishing’ and semi-remembering when she sat down to write the book.

[Snorki · Rating 3 out of 5]

Part autobiographical-examination, part nature-writing, this book uses the idea of tracing rivers back to their sources to explain Katherine’s life and her search for her birth mother. It is an interesting story and the natural world writing is very good; you can sense the moors and the wildlife around as you read. Katherine is honest about some of her challenges in life, and talks about depression, the death of her father and illness of her mother. She also talks lovingly about her daughter, and the trips that they take together to look for water sources. Worth a read, but in the end, not quite engaging enough for me. The nature writing is good, but not my favourite thing to read.

[Marion Roux · Rating 5 out of 5]

Loved this book.
Norbury sets out to follow rivers from the sea to the source as a healing ritual (post miscarriage).
Rivers are her guide companion and teacher.
She was adopted as a baby and now in her 30's (following diagnosis and treatment for an aggressive cancer) she starts trying to find her blood family.
She also describes mental instabilities due to depression,
She describes the flora and fauna on her walks beautifully and the book is full of Celtic mythology.
This memoir/ self discovery is beautiful