Overwhelmed after her intense years as an AIDS worker in San Francisco, Jan Zita Grover moved cross-country to Minnesota, hoping to find a place north enough to feel an escape. What she didn't expect to find is the reality of the devastated landscape that makes up the north woods--massive cut-overs, land that has been logged and used beyond any easily recognizable loveliness.
However, Grover's extraordinary imagination sees similarities between this ravished landscape and the ravished bodies of her dying friends. Refusing to sentimentalize, she nevertheless finds surprising consolation in loss. From landfills that have become prime wildlife feeding areas, to the unexpected joys of fly-fishing without a hook, Grover again bears witness to something she first began to articulate in San Francisco: the "difficult beauties of deformity."
