خضرة: رحلات في وقت الربيع by Tim Dee

خضرة: رحلات في وقت الربيع Reviews

• 
  Rebecca

  From the Cape of Good Hope to the Arctic Circle, Dee tracks the spring as it travels north. From first glimpse to last gasp, moving between his homes in two hemispheres, he makes the season last nearly half the year. His harbingers are chiefly migrating birds – starting with swallows. Here’s how he states his aim:
  

  Knowing those annually recurring gifts of nature, and registering them alongside our own one-way journey through life, why not try to travel with the season and be in springtime for as long as possible, why not try to start where the season starts, and then to keep up with it, in step, walking a moving green room, travelling under the sun, like swallows out of Africa?

  
  Starting in February in the Sahara Desert, he sees an abundance of the songbirds and raptors he’s used to finding in Europe, as well as more exotic species endemic to Africa. Any fear that this will turn out to be some plodding ‘I went here and saw this, then there and saw that’ nature/travel narrative dissipates instantly; although the book has a strong geographical and chronological through line, it flits between times and places as effortlessly as any bird, with the poetic quality of Dee’s observations lifting mundane moments into sharp focus. For instance, at their Ethiopian hotel, a wedding photography mecca, “a waiting wedding dress collapsed on a black cane chair, like an ostrich suicide.” A nightjar startled in the New Forest is “a bandaged balsa-wood model: a great moth’s head with the wings of a dark dragonfly.”
  
  Dee’s wanderings take him from Scandinavia to central Europe and back. Wherever he happens to be, he is fully present, alive to a place and to all its echoes in memory and literature. He recalls a lonely year spent in Budapest studying Hungarian poetry in the 1980s, and how the sight and sound of birds like black woodpeckers and eagle owls revived him. Visits to migration hotspots like Gibraltar and Heligoland alternate with everyday jaunts in Ireland or the Bristol and Cambridgeshire environs he knows best.
  
  Each vignette is headed with a place name and latitude, but many are undated, recalling springs from decades past or from the work of admired writers. Some of his walking companions and mentioned friends are celebrated nature or travel writers in their own right (like Julia Blackburn, Mark Cocker, Patrick McGuinness and Adam Nicolson; there’s also his cousin, fiction writer Tessa Hadley), while Samuel Taylor Coleridge, Seamus Heaney, D. H. Lawrence and Gilbert White are some of the book’s presiding spirits.
  
  Greenery is steeped in allusions and profound thinking about deep time and what it means to be alive in an era when nature’s rhythms are becoming distorted. It is so gorgeously literary, so far from nature and travel writing as usual, that it should attract readers who wouldn’t normally dip into those genres. While Dee’s writing reminds me somewhat of Barry Lopez’s, closer comparisons could be made with Helen Macdonald’s
  H Is for Hawk and Peter Matthiessen’s
  The Snow Leopard: quest narratives that nestle their nature writing within a substrate of memoir and philosophy. The last few pages, in which Dee, now in his late fifties, loses a close friend (Greg Poole, who painted the book’s cover) and receives a diagnosis of Parkinson’s disease but also learns he is to become a father again, are achingly beautiful.
  
  Not just one of the few best nonfiction books of the year, but a fresh, masterful model of how to write about nature.
  
  Originally published on my blog,
  Bookish Beck.
• 
  Paul

  As we reach the peak of one season in the northern hemisphere they are at the opposite end. It was in December in South Africa, their midsummer, that Tim Dee was watching the swallows as they gathered prior to heading north to Europe in time for another midsummer half a year later.
  
  This seasonal migration of swallows and thousands of other species is one of the wonders of our planet. Spring moves at walking pace from south to north across the landscape and that equates to about 30 miles a day. This cycle has been going on for millennia and as much as we try to destroy the planet, it will still continue for the foreseeable future.
  
  Part of Tim Dee’s reason for wanting to follow these birds is to remain permanently in spring and summer and avoid the bleakness of winter. Beginning at 34 degrees south at the Cape of Good Hope on the 21st December he is watching barn and greater swallows moving between his house and the ocean. He is normally used to seeing them in the spring and summer at home in the UK. It is an unsettling moment. Soon they would head north. Arriving in their own time and on time in Europe, they are following the rise in temperature as it reaches an average of 10 degrees, sometimes known as the isotherm line.
  
  It is a very different feeling to being in the UK on the same day. It is the shortest day here and the light feels fleeting. Dee watches the sunrise in Swaffham and can almost feel the earth spin on his patch of chalky soil he is standing on. Every day from now on will be longer, every day will have those extra minutes of light as the planet pivots once again.
  
  It is the beginning of a journey that will take him up and down the continent of Africa and up into the far north of Europe, where on the shores of the Arctic Ocean, he will see swallows in midsummer. He peers from the window of a plane, hoping to glimpse a redstart marvelling how such tiny birds can cross the vast Sahara Desert, staying in Chad, he sees the resident species mixed up with those flying through and it is always slightly surreal to see a common British bird like the whitethroat nearby some African lions. March finds him back in the UK heading from Bristol to the Fens and then on to Denmark where he sees a bog body in a museum and wonders about what past cultures would do to ensure the return on the spring. At Lake Langano in Ethiopia, he is waiting for the swallow to pass through and ends up watching his favourite redstarts in the meantime.
  
  In April heading to Ireland to talk about writing and to visit the grave of the late great Seamus Heaney and to pas his respects to the poet. There is an account of a visit to Sicily to participate in counting the birds as they fly past. Sadly this is a place where there are under attack from the residents who see these migrants as a welcome addition to the pot. Romania in May is the place to see the wallcreeper whose ability to cling onto the sheer cliffs in almost a miracle. In June we find him in the far north in Lerwick and Aarhus as well as reaching the heady latitude of Troms at 70 degrees north and watch the people in the rush hour dodge the bull reindeer and walking out in the endless day.
  
  As the summer solstice passes he recounts the time he was in Chad and awaking to a spasm in his arm. He thought that they would pass, but they didn’t so medical advice was sought and eventually a diagnosis was given. Telling Claire is a deeply emotional moment to read about. As he reaches the autumn of his life he becomes very aware of his mortality.
  
  This is another magnificent book by Tim Dee. He is endlessly fascinated by all of the natural world, however, his passion and obsession is with birds. He has been fortunate to travel all over the world but he has a soft spot for those birds that head to our country each year. Even though it really doesn’t matter where he sees the natural world, it could be the vast African plains, a council dump looking for gulls or listening to the snap of a beak from the spotted flycatcher through his open window he is always ready to see things that other people miss. The writing is as ever, excellent, but in this book, in particular, is as much as about him as the writing has a poignancy and urgency behind it. There is a beautiful tribute to the artist who created the cover of this book (and Landfill), Greg Poole. Having the latitude of the places in the book was a nice touch too. If you haven’t read any of his other books, then I would urge you to do so, but save this one until last.
• 
  Jennifer

  I have to conclude that I always struggle with Tim Dee's books... but I'll always want to give it a go and never regret having done so. This is a book, roughly speaking, about Spring and migration, written by a man well versed not just in nature and literature but in personal migration with his three very different homes in South Africa, rural Cambridgeshire and urban Bristol. I found it dizzying and too often like poetry that has gone over my head or missed me by a mile. But there is so much of interest here and so much expressed beautifully.
  
  I was particularly interested in his experiences (and those of his friends) as a bird watcher with hearing aids... another book in that I think.
• 
  Margaret

  A rewarding book, though one I didn't immediately get immersed in. Migrating birds form its backbone: birds that travel thousands of miles seeking the conditions they need to nest, to breed, to thrive. Dee journeys with them, to the Sahara, the Mediterranean, our own backyards, the Arctic and Scandinavia: as astonished as we might be to see a redstart, a swallow in such very different surroundings. He looks at other migrants too. At the terminally-unable -to-settle DH Lawrence, at reindeer. He makes the books he has read, the poetry that has enriched him part of the poetry of this book. His love of the natural world, of literature, of life itself shine through: he more so because at the end, we learn, as Dee himself does, that he has develop a condition that will limit his ability to continue to celebrate life as actively as he has previously been able to do. Read this book, and don't be in a hurry to savour and digest its riches.
• 
  Sarah

  Beautifully written. Nearly made 4 stars. I found it hard to engage early on and felt rather intimidated with the ease with which he confidently identifies birds from the arctic to south africa. I'm still at the stage where bird just never sit still long enough, or close enough, to be sure. On the other hand I'm happy to watch a dunnock in the garden or a little grebe flying under water on the canal so I've never put the work and attention in. But after having to work quite hard early on I was rewarded and am quite sorry to finish.
  
  The book spends a long time starting spring, then spins around D. H. Lawrence, and finishes very personally and poetically.
• 
  Aasheesh Pittie

  The delicate tremblings that animate this exquisitely sentient work are balanced by the equanimity of Spring's continental advance at the deliberate pace of a walking man. Dee imbues his observations with such serendipitous leisure and immediacy that often I catch myself standing in the frame alongside him. This is such a fantastic melting pot of literature, philosophy, natural history, ornithology, biography, autobiography, and poetry—celebrating the progress of Spring, that powerhouse of re-energy, spreading greenery from Africa to Europe.
• 
  Violet

  This was beautifully written, and so much more than nature and birdwatching (even though that would have been plenty!) It was a poetic reflection on the passage of time and the cycle of the year (and life). I found I kept highlighting passages - it was so, so beautifully written and so insightful.
  
  (Netgalley copy)
• 
  Patricia

  Rich, poetic writing. Even reading slowly, I sometimes got lost between the beginning and end of a sentence, but I always ended up somewhere significant. Dee is engagingly and amazingly erudite about places and literature as well as birds. It's a wide-ranging tour and a deep one. He does a moving and thoughtful weave of the greenery of spring with climate change and aging.
• 
  Mark Walker

  Some of the writing is beautiful but those parts are jewels in what is an ordinary rambling account of various places, including thoughts on Roman/Greek mythology and sporadic references to DH Lawrence.
• 
  Bettie

  
  
  “More than a nature book, Greenery is an extended meditation on the resurgence and passing of life.”
• 
  Alex Taylor

  Beautifully written with some amazing descriptions of birds and landscapes. A mix of travelogue and bird safari. One for genuine bird enthusiasts only though.
• 
  5greenway

  A pursuit of spring that at times felt too rich, too dense in allusion, too much for a tired brain, but well worth the read.
• 
  Tom Cowling

  A beautiful, poetic, feathered cyclical flight through springs and latitudes. Loved it. Thank you Mr Dee.