Gratitude to the Vermont Arts Council and the National Endowment for the Arts for their generous support of this work.
Gratitude to the various cabins, living rooms, and cafés throughout southern Vermont (especially their beams and windows) where these words were written.
Gratitude to the following books for expanding my understanding of time, place, hope, and the lives of birds: Evan T. Pritchard’s No Word for Time: The Way of the Algonquin People; Frederick Matthew Wiseman’s The Voice of the Dawn: An Autohistory of the Abenaki Nation; Trudy Ann Parker’s Aunt Sarah: Woman of the Dawnland; Robin Wall Kimmerer’s Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge and the Teachings of Plants; Rebecca Solnit’s Hope in the Dark: Untold Histories, Wild Possibilities; and Tony Angell’s The House of Owls.
Gratitude to my friend Judy Dow for teaching me about the Eugenics Survey of Vermont, forever shifting my sense of place.
Gratitude to Julia Kenny, agent supreme, for keeping my (mercurial) spirits above water.
Gratitude to Megan Lynch, editor supreme, for the brilliance, the clarity, and the unflinching faith.
Gratitude to the heart-strong and capable team at Ecco (a ship of dreams), especially Sonya Cheuse, Miriam Parker, James Faccinto, and Emma Dries.
Gratitude to Sara Wood for the matchless cover art.
Gratitude to Margaret Wimberger for keeping my lines true.
Gratitude to Jennifer Bowen Hicks, a phenom, for being there, always.
Gratitude to my parents—optimists, pragmatists—for getting back to the land.
Gratitude to my grandmother Margaret for her songs, her spunk, and her beautiful time of dying.
Gratitude to my grandfather John for his love of owls, his knowledge of stars, and his beautiful time of dying.
Gratitude to Ty, my rock, my roll, my poet supreme.
And last (but never least), gratitude to my children, A and O, wild at heart, for being my reason, my cause, and my hope in the dark. I write for you, darlings.