Edward Hoagland is dead, who helped me to see and fall in love. He died in February. In the outpouring of media trash and catastrophe, I missed it. From the summer of 1977 and into the early 80’s I read all of his essays . His observations on turtles, tigers, bears, wolves, rivers and walking and woods felt as if I had found Thoreau’s more prickly, direct and ironic descendent, but someone just as […]
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