Pam Houston

"On her 120-acre homestead in the Colorado Rockies, beloved writer Pam Houston learns what is means to care for a piece of land and the creatures on it. Elk calves and bluebirds mark the changing seasons, winter temperatures drop to 35 below, and lightning sparks a 110,000-acre wildfire. Alongside her devoted Irish wolfhounds and a spirited troupe of horses, donkeys, and Icelandic sheep. Houston finds her sanctuary a place where she discovers how the natural world has mothered and healed show more her.

"In essays as lucid and invigorating as mountain air, Deep Creek delivers Houston's most profound meditations yet on how 'to live simultaneously inside the wonder and the grief ... to love the damaged world and do what I can to help it thrive.' "
~~back cover

I loved this book. I felt as though I were there, on the homestead, living the life she talked about -- breathing the mountain air, sobbing uncontrollably when Fenton died, breathing smoke and fear when the West Fork Complex fire burned nearer & nearer to the homestead. The fire resonated with me since I've spent time working for the Forest Service and dealing with campaign fires.

But most of all I loved reading about the world around her -- its beauty, its fierceness, its changing seasons. I want to liver up there, high in the Rockies, living "simultaneously inside the wonder and the grief ... to love the damaged world and do what I can to help it thrive." show less

Whoever pushed this cover art is an asshole. These stories aren't smut or fluff -- they're visceral, which is so much better. Well, once you move past the dog chained out in the cold in the first one.

“I have spent most of my life outside, but for the last three years, I have been walking five miles a day, minimum, wherever I am, urban or rural, and can attest to the magnitude of the natural beauty that is left. Beauty worth seeing, worth singing, worth saving, whatever that word can mean now. There is beauty in a desert, even one that is expanding. There is beauty in the ocean, even one that is on the rise. And even if the jig is up, even if it is really game over, what better time to show more sing about the earth than when it is critically, even fatally wounded at our hands.”

“The language of the wilderness is the most beautiful language we have and it is our job to sing it, until and even after it is gone, no matter how much it hurts.”

Pam Houston experienced horrific parental abuse, as a child, but somehow rose above and conquered her fears and one of the catalysts of her life was acquiring a 120 acre ranch in Colorado, a place where she could find solace and heal, the wounds of her past. Despite the many challenges of running a ranch, alone, and with zero experience, she somehow persevered. This is her story. Well-written, gritty and heartfelt. A nice blend of Annie Proulx and Cheryl Strayed, along with a strong environmental message. Houston has written other books, fiction and nonfiction. I will be exploring these too.

*This is also excellent on audio, with narration by the author. BTW- She loves her wolfhounds! show less

“We are all dying, and because of us, so is the earth. That’s the most terrible, the most painful in my entire repertoire of self-torturing thoughts. But it isn’t dead yet and neither are we. Are we going to drop the earth off at the vet, say goodbye at the door, and leave her to die in the hands of strangers? We can decide, even now, not to turn our backs on her in her illness. We can still decide not to let her die alone.”
― Pam Houston, Deep Creek: Finding Hope in the High show more Country

“What edges out the worry, of course, is the wonder. Because what could be better than 48 inches in twenty-four hours (76 inches is the local record), than a couple of Irish wolfhounds leaping though bottomless powder with giant smiles on their faces, than a herd of two hundred elk making their stately way chest-deep in the snowbound pasture toward the river? Best of all, what accompanies each snowstorm is the knowledge that the aquifer is getting replenished, that summer wildfire fear is assuaged, if not abated, that the rivers will be full of trout and the pastures full of flowers come July.”

“Could a person mourn and be joyful simultaneously? I understood it as the challenge of the twenty-first century. Maybe it was simply what being a grown up meant.”

This memoir from Pam Houston centers around a 120-acre southern Colorado ranch she fell in love with. She bought it for only 5% down from a sympathetic owner, with money the author made from her successful debut, Cowboys Are My Weakness. Sprinkled throughout are vignettes from the ranch, like how to deal with a difficult ram, and the decline of a beloved dog. She overcame a horrible childhood, salvaged by a god's gift nanny, and worked all over the world in various wilderness-related jobs, often as a trail guide. She finances the ranch payments by teaching writing seminars all over the country and abroad, recruiting ranch caretakers for her times of absence from those she encounters.

A prevailing theme is in the first three quotes: our planet is in dire straits, yet still contains wonders. Can we mourn and be joyful simultaneously? Are we just going to drop it off at the vet's, or is there more we can do?

She writes honestly, and beautifully, and has an amazing supply of experiences to draw her stories from. Many thanks to Mark and others for pointing me to this one. My wife started reading it as soon as I was finished. It would get five stars except I thought the author went on too long, with extraneous detail, about a wildfire that threatens the ranch and affects her deeply. So half star off, but others might not be so critical. show less