I recently finished Ron Rash’s Above The Waterfall. Such a gripping read and the language is gorgeous.
There are limits to what you owe your grandparents, Becky, Les had said, but he was wrong. How could there be, when what they gave me was no only their acceptance of my silence but so much more, the minnow in the spring-house guarding the water’s purity, spiders spinning webbed words, whip-poor-wills and white owls, woolly worms and snake skins, the sink of a star. All had resonance, meaning. Folklore, yes, but always in one way true, the seamless connection that Hopkins saw: Each mortal thing does one thing and the same. p.136-7