Evoking the Columbia Plateau

Twice this summer I've stumbled into conversations I'd been unconsciously wanting to have for a long time. One conversation took place when I sat down to breakfast with an old friend. Instead of the light chat over coffee that I expected, I found myself in the middle of an utterly open, heartfelt exchange about fear, loss, and faith. The second time happened when I opened up Paul Lindholdt's new collection of essays, In Earshot of Water: Notes from the Columbia Plateau. As I began to read, I felt again like I was part of a necessary and revelatory narrative that was at once personal and public, regional and universal. 

A reader doesn't have to be anchored in the Northwest to be moved and impacted by this collection. These stories are about the relationship one can have with a region, but they aren't fixated on one small place; they range from Seattle's urban watersheds eastward to Idaho's Silver valley, and they study the complicated overlay of narratives on a land that is both loved and polluted.

Lindholdt has carefully studied the regional stories about the landscape, history, inhabitants, and big-industry deceit, and he has made them his own. In Earshot of Water explores what it means to be intimately connected with the water of the Pacific and Inland Northwest. Lindholdt recounts what it was like to grow up along Walker Creek, to kayak the Salmon River, and to come to terms with the sometimes ferocious wildness of Bellingham Bay.

Lindholdt's knack for story-telling is clearly evident as he tackles everything from hunting and rodeos to invasive weeds and hydroelectric dams. But don't be mistaken: these are not simply stories of pleasure and adventure. Paul Lindholdt is a serious wilderness advocate and naturalist and essays like "In the Shadow of the Government's Blind Eye" and "Subliming the System" lay out painful evidence for making environmental change and initiating better stewardship practices in the region and beyond. We glimpse his days working ankle deep in the toxic drainage ponds of Western Processing, we feel his pain as his father suffers from prostate cancer, and we float with him on the languorous bends of the Salmon River as he seeks respite from the grief of losing his firstborn son.   

In Earshot of Water is also, very simply, a good read. The style is lyrical and clean, and his description of the landscape is deft and sure. These essays build a satisfying narrative arc that show his skillfulness as a curious and observant naturalist, as well as his willingness to let himself be seen as well as heard. In Earshot of Water is a keen and empathetic study of the intimate connections between the wildlife and the people in Paul Lindholdt's community. Upon finishing it, I wanted to read it again.



Lindholdt, Paul. In Earshot of Water. Iowa City: University of Iowa Press, 2011.