Description
In South Carolina, a croker sack is any big cloth sack. When opened, it sometimes reveals more than expected, as do these deceptively simple narratives about fishing trips, flora and fauna, and memories of the past. Observing a snapping turtle, recounting the old age and death of a hunting dog, or talking with neighbors who shot a moose and hung it in their garage, Franklin Burroughs reflects on how human and natural histories interconnect. His writing is clear and still as a pond, and his distinctive and evocative voice resonates through the details. “Elegant, unexpected, remarkable for their ability to weave through time and space and turns of emotion, these essays would do Montaigne or Samuel Johnson proud”. — The Cleveland Plain Dealer
