I step out onto the porch in a loose nightgown and feel the breeze, so reminiscent of swimming, the way water flows over the skin, or fingertips to trace the curves and hollows of a body . . . suddenly I’m awake to myself.
When Joelle Fraser needed affordable digs in which to raise her little boy near her soon-to-be-ex, she found two options in her northeastern California town: a crummy apartment or a cabin on the edge of civilization. Abandoning city life for solitude, she found silence, wildlife, wood fires, and a reservoir of strength she had not known she possessed.
In my continuing quest for the perfect get-away contemplation, I found this 2013 memoir engrossing from the first of its 223 pages. Focusing on motherhood, creativity, and the seasons of the soul as one ages, it shows the artist striving for balance in her personal and professional life far from distraction. But in this haven many authors would covet, she must face the challenges of weather, the ever-present threat of mountain lions, and separation from friends.
In this author reading, Fraser reflects on the loneliness of the holidays and the unexpected pull of city life.