Table of Contents
POSTLUDE: THE END OF THE WORLD
ALSO BY DAVID GESSNER:
The Prophet of Dry Hill Return of the Osprey Soaring with Fidel Sick of Nature Under the Devil’s Thumb A Wild, Rank Place
To Hadley Gessner, Again and Always
A man does best when he is most himself.
—Henry David Thoreau
It’s not that easy being green.
—Kermit the Frog
“DIRTY WATER”
—Ed Cobb
I’m gonna tell you a big fat story, baby
Aww, it’s all about my town
Yeah, down by the river
Down by the banks of the river Charles
Aw, that’s what’s happenin’ baby
That’s where you’ll find me
Along with lovers, buggers and thieves
Aw, but they’re cool people
Well I love that dirty water
Oh, Boston you’re my home
’Cause I love that dirty water
Oh, Boston you’re my home (oh, yeah)1
PRELUDE: THE RIVER MAN
We are paddling our rock-battered canoe down a particularly stunning section of the river, twisting between steep granite walls and overhanging trees, as we travel toward the hidden city at river’s end. Over the past hours we have heard coyotes howl and watched deer wade, observed a sharp-shinned hawk swoop into the canopy, swallows cut above the water in front of us, kingfishers ratchet past, and toasted with beers to congratulate ourselves after an exhilarating ride through rapids. If I squint I can imagine myself on a great and wild river, the Amazon or Congo or, at least, the Colorado, and can imagine the man steering the canoe behind me as an epic adventurer, Teddy Roosevelt, say, hurtling down the River of Doubt.
The truth is slightly less glamorous. The truth is this isn’t the Amazon but the Charles—a name that conjures up images less adventurous and wild than fancy and effete, not to mention domesticated and decidedly British—and that the hidden city ahead is known, in the native tongue, as Bawhston. What’s more, the dwellings
