Armchair Birding: The Place of Tides, by James Rebanks
~ Anne Kilgannon
I have often used this space to recommend nature-related and bird-specific books for holiday giving, but I know that this won’t be on your screen until rather late in the day unless you are truly a last-minute shopper! I leave that to you! My own feeling while reading this powerful story was more one of a call to re-examine and re-dedicate myself to do what most matters and let go of the clutter that crowds my attention. So: this is a New Year’s resolution kind of book. And, of course, I want to press it on everyone to read this book and every other one from Rebanks’ pen. He features heavily on my Christmas gift giving.
If you aren’t familiar with this author (and it won’t matter for this title) his other books are “The Shepherd’s Life” and “Pastoral Song” that describe his life as a struggling farmer in the northwest corner of England, in the celebrated landscape of the fells of the famed Lake District, land of Wordsworth and Beatrix Potter. For all its beauty, if you are raising sheep and cows instead of writing poetry or sweet tales of rabbits and other small furry folk, it’s a hard life and a struggle to maintain your integrity supplying foods in today’s cut-throat market of British grocery chains. Rebanks explores that struggle in frankly gritty detail in his first books but is also brought closer to his grandfather and father who confronted the same difficult realities that he faced and whose choices informed and supported James’ own. If you are curious about regenerative farming and what it looks like literally “on the ground” and in your grocery cart, you will be enthralled by his story. We all need to know more about where our food comes from.
“The Place of Tides” shifts in a new and unexpected direction for Rebanks readers. It’s not about farming and there is not a majestic fell in sight. He confesses that he is tired and more than a little lost. He has taken on other work beyond caring for his land that appears not to be an answer for how to thrive and find peace. But, by chance on an assignment, he meets an extraordinary Norwegian “duck woman.” Her way of life is a revelation; beyond a “reboot”, she offers James an experience that is revolutionary. He asks if he can share her work for a season and she replies, “Bring work clothes and good boots.” He soon finds his way to a knob of windswept rock with the elderly Anna and another woman friend. They will share quarters, meals and the arduous labor of preparing for the seasonal arrival of the eider ducks.
Anna is a practitioner of a very old tradition of caring for wild eider ducks on remote northern islands, to safeguard the flocks from predators while they nest, all in the hopes of “harvesting” their extraordinarily warm and fluffy down feathers with which they line their nests and humans use for eiderdown quilts. The nests themselves are hardly more than scrapes, so the women who protect them build rugged shelters for the mother ducks to ensure their safety and comfort. The ducks, though very shy and very wild, accept this relationship, raising all kinds of wonder about heredity and the possible passing down through generations of ducks that these women are helpers and not predators. As much as readers learn about these special ducks, I was filled with amazement and curious to learn more. But it was also a story of respect and privacy, giving the ducks their space and not prying into their secrets. Anna lived with a different ethic for the wild, bound by her intimate relationship and knowledge from years of service to their needs.
James helps with the tasks that support the security and comfort that will make for successful nesting. He also observes and listens carefully, groping toward an understanding of Anna’s way, of her instructions but also her unspoken approach to life, the demands of nature and the needs of an aging but proud woman. There is tension here as he strains to please but remain unobtrusive, as well as the tension with the mother ducks. Will they come? Will they be safe and secure? Will they accept the human-made shelters? And with climate change, pollution, over-fishing and other human intrusions, will the ducks survive? Is there still hope? For such a quiet book, the unspoken is gripping.
The undercurrent of chasing hope is what makes this an inspiring New Year’s book. I won’t tell you what happens, but will just say that Anna’s example is simple, though not easy: if we are to save our world, we have to start somewhere specific, our own corner, our rocky island. We all need to work in our communities, the landscape we know best, recognizing its rare beauty and its threats. We have to show up, season in and season out. James found that Anna’s strength was rooted in life built on her own terms. She chose service to the ducks, their right to live. And by being herself grounded in that dedication, she gave James—and readers here—courage to be more than they had dared to be, than they imagined they could. She did it with love.
Wishing for us all a new year of commitment and joy.
