Some Days the Birds
In praise of winter company of all kinds
Here we are at the winter solstice, the shortest, darkest day of the year, and in western Oregon the days don’t exactly dawn but lighten from gray to gray, the sky low, the air still, maybe in the afternoon a mizzling rain.
Every now and again, though, something shifts. The sky unravels, a wind rises in the cedars, the rain comes hard and quick—and I’m at the window, or outside reveling in the bright wildness of the moment. And a sunshower? A sunbreak? Well, that’s the kind of Christmas miracle I can get behind right there.
Some days the birds and I are in this together.
We’d had a run of low, gray, still days, and I hadn’t seen many at the feeders. Then one morning earlier this week, the rain coming in sideways, in whirls and circles, the birds—rose finches, goldfinches, chickadees, nuthatches, juncos, a flicker, even a bossy scrub jay at one point—were a hubbub of hop and feather and squawk. The finches belly up and crack seed after seed, the nuthatches wing in quick and grab a snack upside down. A blizzard of juncos below, a masked banditry of chickadees descending from the cedar. All that lovely fuss and song.
The weather was terrible. But I was out there, bundled up on the porch with my pen and journal, and—how glad I was for such winter company—so were they.
The Write Question
I’ve had the great good fortune over the years to be part of some amazing conversations on Montana Public Radio’s The Write Question. And this chance to talk with host Lauren Korn about The Entire Sky, masculinity, imagination, and place was no exception.
Lists
Lots of year end best-of lists are being shared, and it’s gratifying to see The Entire Sky land on a handful of lovely, unique lists from authors and booksellers:
An Expansive, Classically Good Novel for Jens To Wallow Around In, The Entire Sky. So named in the annual Jenfolk Book Awards, over at The Tumbleweed, wherein author Jenny Shank “bestow[s] the annual Jenfolk Book Awards on behalf of Jenkind. There are over 1.5 million Jens, Jennys, and Jennifers in America. So far, no Jen has come forward to challenge me for the right to unilaterally select and award these prizes, based on the fifty or so books I managed to read this year. So I’m going to keep it up until another Jen, Jenny, or Jennifer tackles me and demands that I stop. Until then, I speak for Jennifers Lawrence, Garner, Coolidge, Lopez, Hudson, and all the rest in awarding these honors. I loved reading these books, and I hope they delight you too!”
Best Novel at Taking Bearings, The Entire Sky. Historian and writer Adam Sowards writes: “When I asked Joe Wilkins if he’d sit for an interview with me, he rushed an advance copy of his new novel to me. Like all of Wilkins’s work, The Entire Sky renders a landscape and characters so vividly you are sure you’ve walked along the trail talking to them. And somehow, he can uplift heartache in its myriad forms, always with prose that vibrates with poetry. Although there is pain in The Entire Sky, Wilkins also shows the possibility of reconciliation and friendship across generations. Repair is always a possibility, if not a certainty. That seems like a lesson we ought to take seriously as we move toward 2025.”
Favorite Novel of 2024 at Beartooth Books, The Entire Sky: “It's the only book in the store that is a staff pick for all of us. Set in Eastern Montana, it tells the story of Justin, a runaway teenager, and Rene Bouchard, a grieving rancher, and what happens when their lives intersect. It's a story of relationships and landscapes. A must read for anyone who loves Montana and great writing. It will be our most recommended book in the store this holiday season.”
Pastoral, 1994 Is Almost Here!
This’ll be my fifth full-length collection, and it’s a bit of a departure for me. Shorter, tighter, the sonnet form haunting most of the poems, it’s the closest thing I’ve done to a project book. I’m super proud of it. Pre-order here!
Joe Wilkins' Pastoral, 1994 calls compellingly into the lyric quietness, labor, and rituals of the rural West and its communities, bringing readers close to the earth, to the ditches, to the "flowery stink of alfalfa / hot breath of wheat." Enfolding its reader in a living, breathing landscape, this collection tenderly approaches the lives—of humans, of sheep, of cottonwood, and barn owl—that collide and entangle with each other. With a gentle yet appraising regard for the richly layered concepts of childhood and masculinity, Pastoral, 1994 leans in and listens to the prairie and those living there.
New Work
Even as I’m putting my shoulder to the wheel of the next big project, I’m always toying with poems and tinkering with an essay or two, maybe dreaming my way into a short story. You can find some of my latest work below, and look for pieces in The Sun, The Southern Review, The Idaho Review, West Trade Review, Traverse, Sweet, and Terrain.org in the new year.
A short story, “The Brothers’ Fire,” at The Missouri Review (and this one just got nominated by the editors for a Pushcart Prize!)
A poem from Pastoral, 1994, “Elegy Ending with a Slice of Sour-Cream-and-Raisin Pie,” at The Florida Review.
A poem, “The Book of the American Beech,” in the beautiful new anthology A Literary Field Guide to Northern Appalachia.
Wishing you and yours good company of all kinds. And here’s a parting pic of me, Renée Watson, and Mitchell Jackson in conversation at the Portland Book Festival—talk about rich, invigorating company.
Happy holidays!
Always great to hear what's going on in your world. Happy Winter Solstice to you & yours!