Tree for the Birds
Prepare to undertake another mythic journey with the master of nature writing, Vernon RL Head. In 214, Vernon took the bookselling world by surprise with his hit, The Search for the Rarest Bird in the World, a book which sold out from most stores in the month before Christmas.
Prepare to undertake another mythic journey with the master of nature writing, Vernon RL Head. In 214, Vernon took the bookselling world by surprise with his hit, The Search for the Rarest Bird in the World, a book which sold out from most stores in the month before Christmas, leaving prospective book buyers literally searching for The Search. This time around we venture deep into the mysterious world of the Congo River, the Great Dancing Road. We meet Chrisnelt, a young Congolese boy who grows into manhood shaped by the vast leaves held in the branches of tropical forests, all the while battling a ravaged world of globalised greed and death. Chrisnelt is a gardener of unusual genius: he learns from birds, insects and foreign weeds; and he counts raindrops falling from clouds, finding exquisite numbers that sing of the interconnection of peoples everywhere. Chrisnelt is guided by the ancient journey of water in his part of Africa: the constant flow to the ocean, and the rise back into the sky of mists, mentored by the deepest river on Earth. Vernon RL Head offers a novel of profound beauty. Set in the heart of Africa, this powerful story at the edge of damnation bends a reflection of all of us through the eyes of a birdwatcher who sees wings fly like escaping leaves on streams of eternal water and air for all. Quotes from the book: Dragonflies are special, living a life of two worlds…when they change from aquatic hunter to creature of the sky they carry the memory of water in their wings, in the way the moon might linger in daylight as little ponds on the sky. ‘Dragonflies are the ultimate ambassadors between worlds’, said Chrisnelt quietly. ‘They are like moths bringing night to a burning candle, journeying inevitably towards the end.’ A tree sees forever, or until it becomes the next tree of wings. A gardener is a privileged person who fashions bridges of leaves between people. …and the white Mercedes Benz made private mist, spitting ice from an air-conditioning unit in bits of teeth. ‘People do not die because it is Ordained. People do not die because they choose to. People die like falling leaves from the highest trees to surrender the future to new branches, permitting a slow walk toward the sun, blessed by the rain. That is what Chrisnelt said,’ said Chaminda inside the shadows.’