This book was way better than I was expecting. As with many river writers I've run across, Duncan is definitely "male" in his metaphors, and if that bothers you you'll miss out on a good book. Sometimes his raving-to-the-point-people-stop-listening activist gets going, but you can skim past it. This book is a non-religiously affiliated (although aware of many religions) meditation on the tension between being a contemplative and an activist. Duncan tells stories of rivers losing, winning, and still at risk, in the fight against industrialism. He tells of the spiritual and human joy of fishing. And it just randomly gives you idea after idea to think about. Thought-provoking, meditative, at times horrifying, quite often beautiful. ( )

Esssays on the environment, in particular the trout streams of Montana and the Pacific Northwest. What makes this book memorable is the incandescent, extraordinarily moving prose -- the best writing I've encountered in a long time.